Strolling down on Mutton Street. The moon is peeping through. Old wives say Young Man you’d better. Watch your Ps and Qs. But life is good on Mutton Street. If you know the why and where. Romping on the bombsites. There’s magic everywhere. CHORUS. We’re the boys of Mutton Street. Mutton Street Mutton Street. We’re the boys of Mutton Street. We give no ground. We came upon those Burley boys. They were shaking like a leaf. We had our stones and dusters. We were armed right to the teeth. We fired a friendly volley. And we only maimed a few. And quick as greasy lightning. They disappeared from view. Now Bonfire Night it was a sight. The bonfire how it blazed. It nearly set the street alight. So they called the Fire Brigade. The Fire Brigade got busy. But we cut the hoses clean. And suddenly the Mutton Boys. Were nowhere to be seen. Alky on the corner. Shell-shocked fusilier. Tip him a little drink he’ll get you. Cigarettes and beer. Thomas Tapling Senior. Got soda pop and news. Scott and Son’s got toys for boys. But they push their Christian views