(brooker / reid)* Lime street in the afternoon Everybody crazy as a coon I'm running round in my underpants Trying to find some kinda romance Quarter past three [sic] on lime street I got whipped right offa my feet Didn't realize that i'd been caught Till i found myself in the county court 'mr judge,' i said, 'won't you please be kind Have pity on me, a poor orphan child?' Mr judge he says with a long mean frown 'orphan or not, you're going down!' Well i screamed on my knees in the witness box, 'lord have mercy on my golden locks.' The judge i could see that he was snide He says, 'the only kind of blonde you are's a peroxide!' Oh lime street, lime street Lime street, that's where we meet