It is very sad that my first love's dance
Should have happened down in old Kings Cross*
Where amid this sordid circumstance
There was something more than just innocence lost.
Wrap it up and put it in - where was romance?
(The girl's heart covered by a cold hard frost).
I was her last trick of the night - and then?
Well after this - all she wants is h*roin.

Glittering old tart - the Cross - debauched and stupid; -
Where some find pleasure - and others find great pain.
Destroying innocence - you'll find not Cupid -
Drenched in sin and soaking in the rain.
I speak of her in memories quite lucid; -
(At other times she shames and fogs my brain).
This is a place where truly nothings free -
And if you ever went there you would see.

So going back now thirty years in time; -
With gangsters' molls, whores, and drugs aplenty; -
Ev'ry violence - ev'ry type of crime -
Well, so it was - back there in the eighties.
Though in this wildlife something sublime; -
A merging of the Tigress and Euphrates.**
Awash with drugs and every type of sin -
Hookers off their faces on cheap h*roin.

That was where I was - down in old Kings Cross
Losing at sixteen my sweet virginity; -
And sleeping (as I did) with life's worst dross -
Saw this den of vice and inequality.
(Though half of Sydney would be at a loss
If this old dame were ever closed you see).
Here vice has value - something like a treasure -
Where we "sin in haste - and repent at leisure".

The 'Cross of old: - well that was how it was; -
Like a jail (co-educational) with lights.
And why you ask? Why? - just well - just because -
(How else can you explain all those street fights?)
I tell of times long gone back in "the "Cross" -
(Destroying the young as they found their delights).
"Drunks, (and) junkies and busted up old sluts"^; -
Well, they say us Aussies were "as rough as guts".

There were a few good people - the odd saint
As diamonds in the rough - (as you might say)
Though not for me because saint I ain't
And I was young and in my "salad days".
Well this is the picture that I paint
(For saints you'd best look in another place)
Except of course for Father Chris O'Rielleys'
Youth Off the Streets virtuous charities.***

No time now; to return to memories; -
No time - to come - and settle - those old scores.
She's tame and I'll not make new enemies; -
All's gone quiet with these our "lockout laws".****
Hard to find a foe or even frenemies; -
The spark is gone and now she only bores; -
Kicked out of the 'Cross at 1 am
The clubs are closed like jails - inmates in them.




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