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Last of the Line
As a writer, you learn to be a bit wary of very beautiful or funny scenery that holds the attention of the audience - the average revue song of that time only lasted about three or possibly four minutes, and people spent the first two or three minutes looking at the scenery, and your number was over before they really started listening. That's why when Donald and I started doing our own show, we only had curtains - expense had absolutely nothing to do with it, I assure you. Have you ever wished you could invent a method of transport that carried crowds of people fairly quietly along it's own track through the streets, without using petrol, or polluting the atmosphere? Well, if you did, you might think of calling it a tram. Long before we got involved with buses, Donald and I wrote a very moving song about the last tram to run in London. Another great cartoonist, Roland Emmett, designed the backcloth, and with Julian's help, we'd like to sing it for you now. Last of the line.
When the busy streets are silent have you wondered at the sight
Of a little group outside the Terminus?
By the dark deserted London Transport Depot every night?
Don't wonder any longer-'cause it's us!
Three broken-hearted tram-drivers with nothing else to do
But lift our weary heads to heaven above,
And sing for all to hear as we wipe away a tear
With the comer of an old tram-driver's glove-
Good-bye old Tram!
No matter where
I am I'll think of you until my memory fails.
We'd drive through fog or shower
At fifteen miles per hour
And yet you'd always keep us on the rails.
Now worn and scarred
Towards the Breaker's Yard
You have journeyed where they issue no returns.
Old pal of mine,
They've started digging up the line:
Good-bye old Tram!
Diving down the Kingsway Tunnel like the gaping jaws of hell
To the river, where you'd give her all you'd got!
Oh, the sight of sparks a-flying! Oh, the jangling of the bell!
Oh, the scent of wooden brake-blocks running hot!
From Woolwich Park to Camberwell, from Highgate Hill to Bow,
On to Wapping, only stopping by request,
Down a hill or round a bend we would drive at either end
And we never knew which end we loved the best!
Good-bye old Tram!
In every traffic jam
You'd patiently endure your heavy load.
Where'er the tram wires led,
Drawing power from overhead,
You took us down the middle of life's road!
L.P.T.B.
Has signed your R.I.P.,
And here we mourn
Your passing down the line,
Until some day
We drive you through the Milky Way:
Good-bye old Tram!
They won't get us
To drive their ruddy trolley-bus!
Good-bye old Tram!
Originally from the album 'And The We Wrote...'.
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