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No that'd put me right off...I don't like her that much anyhow, nor does she much like me...which is why we've managed to stay together so long...mutual antipathy (so long as it's mostly on a fairly quiet and reasonable basis) makes life all the more interesting...
Here's to Polly , Annie , Liz & Cathy , Mary Kelly too ,
and all the poor unfortunates who lived alongside you ,
the torment and the suffering this whole town put you through ,
on a foggy night in Spitalfields , I'll raise a glass to you .
It was in that bloody Autumn back in 1888 ,
on the cobbled streets of Whitechapel , a killer lay in wait .
In the gaslight passageways a shadow , no one knows for sure ,
the old East End of London town , was shaken to its core .
Poor ol Polly Nichols , Jolly bonnet upon your head ,
all ya needed was just four pence , and a place to rest your head ,
so how you ended up that night , down in ol Bucks Row ,
beneath the shadow of the Ripper , it's for only you to know
Then alonglong came Annie Chapman , Dark Annie she was known ,
from the Ten Bells pub to Hanbury street she wandered all alone ,
it was early in the morning , the clock in Brick lane chimed ,
who left you in the yard that morn , at the back of twenty nine .
Lizzy Stride , just 45 , her friends all called her long ,
to walk these streets of London town , from Sweden she had come ,
as the rain came down in Berners street , did ya struggle Liz, did ya fight ,
could you feel the Ripper watching you , that dark September night .
Not even fifty minuites had passed, when up in Mitre Square ,
Cathy who dya trust to lead you to , the darkest corner there ,
did they know your name was Eddows , was it you they came to find ,
God bless ya Catherine Eddows and the streets you left behind .
Mary , Mary , Mary Jane , what in Gods name did you do ,
did you know the killer at your door , did you let him walk on through ,
just a Violet from mothers grave , you could hear black Mary sing ,
but when the Ripper walked out of Millers court , you couldn't hear a thing
So Here's to Polly , Annie , Liz & Cathy , Mary Kelly too ,
and all the poor unfortunates who lived alongside you ,
the torment and the suffering this whole town put you through ,
on a foggy night in Spitalfields , I'll raise a glass to you .
Thank you Rosella , The Lyrics came a lot quicker than the arrangement , I always knew I wanted to sample a contemporary Joanna ( Piano ) for the true flavor of the song and was fortune enough to stumble across an old beaten up Piano in the basement of my friends London pub . Once we recorded and sampled its wonderful old world sound , the whole song just seemed to fall into place .. I guess lyrically , I have always been writing this song ever since my granddad first took me down Petticoat lane market as a child . The countless stories and experiences along with the grim reality of life back in those days has always been in my blood , and I have always wanted to write a song paying tribute to the forgotten souls who rarely get a mention in the Jack the Ripper story .. What was your question again in short , about a week . Sorry for the procrastination ..
For those who have a twitter account. I would recommend you go this account below there are some phenomenal East End photos I have not seen before relative to the murders and The East End at the time of the murders and thereafter.
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