She was sick and tired of country life. A little country home, A little country folk, Made her blood run cold. Now her mother pines her heart away, Looking for her child in the big black smoke, In the big black smoke.
Frailest, purest girl the world has seen, According to her Ma, according to her Pa, And everybody said, That she knew no sin and did no wrong, Till she walked the streets of the big black smoke, Of the big black smoke.
Well, she slept in caffs and coffee bars and bowling alleys, And every penny she had Was spent on purple hearts and cigarettes.
She took all her pretty coloured clothes, And ran away from home And the boy next door, For a boy named Joe. And he took her money for the rent And tried to drag her down in the big black smoke, In the big black smoke.
In the big black smoke. In the big black smoke.
Compositor: Desconhecido no ECADIntérpretes: David Russell Gordon Davies (Dave Davies) (KNR-I), Mick Avory (Kinks) (PPL - I), Peter Alexander Greenlaw Quaife (Pete Quaife) (PPL - I), Raymond Douglas Davies (Davies Ray) (PPL - I)Publicado em 1967ECAD verificado fonograma #11380753 em 14/Abr/2024