Eliza Carthy - Blood on My Boots lyrics

I was drinking champagne with Jerry Springer I was young and dressed up to the nines. I looked on adoring the west end walls of mirrors at my face At my fondest designs And though my dears, it was five pounds of gla**, don't you know As the wise might suspect, as I stood laughing with the director There was only one way this could go. There's blood on my boots, blood on my boots, blood on my boots There's blood on my boots, blood on my boots, blood on my boots So I'm home to my roots There's blood on my boots Oh, I'm home to my roots There's blood on my boots. I took a rickshaw right after the opera And I felt like the queen of the world The rickshaw driver was twenty and Italian And I gave him my plus one And he went home for his beautiful girl. And oh my dears, it was five pounds for a shining crystal gong Did I just drink too much? Was there a waiter with a grudge, shooting fishes in a barrel, having fun? There's blood on my face, blood on my face, blood on my face There's blood on my face, blood on my face, blood on my face There's blood all over the place There's blood, there's blood, there's blood Blood all over the place There's blood on my face. The night started warm and so balmy Oh, the stars, oh the wind in my hair The tears with a hero, the capitol twilight The lions in Trafalgar Square And though my darlings, it was five pounds of gla**, don't you know Five pounds for poison in my glamorous gla** That quite put an end to my show. There's blood on my clothes, blood on my clothes, blood on my clothes There's blood on my clothes, blood on my clothes, blood on my clothes Oh, it came from my nose There's blood, there's blood, there's blood Oh, it came from my nose There's blood on my clothes. There's an angel in Whitehall at night, Watched me kneel, watched me stumble with poise And it blacks out your eyes and your face meets the ground And if you fall alone in this city at night Well they say you make no sound, no sound, no sound at all. There's blood on my top, blood on my top, blood on my top Oh, there's blood on my top, blood on my top, blood on my top I'm gonna go to the shop and buy me some plasters And then I'm gonna set my big old hackney-arsed mates On that little ba*tard, on that little ba*tard, on that little ba*tard... On that little... on that little...