ONE TWO THREE (The Ballad Of Notting Hill Gate)

Paul Beauregard, Tim Moore

Everywhere I see and read the poetry of slavery
Written on the faces of the people in the street
So we step into the park with the newborn child
Laughing with the wildbirds flying high up in the blue sky
And I say a secret prayer, for all loved ones everywhere
With a smile and three tears in my eyes

(*) One is for the Father
Two is for the Mother
Three is for the child looking out into the future
Simple two love each other like sisters and brothers
Is life as simple as one two three?

Christmas time has come and bin
Yet I still hear the carol singing
Deep in the crowded streets of Notting Hill gate
As the busker street musician plays to the busy stream of faces
As they hurry hurry on their way
And the snow is swirling round the sign of the underground
He stoops down to pick up three small silver coins

(*) Repeat

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight
Nine, ten, eleven up to twelve
Are the months of the year also the tribes of Israel
Number thirteen is the number of the house
Where nobody wants to live
Number fourteen burthday they say
You never, never, never, bin kissed
Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen
Nineteen, twenty, twenty one
That's when a man comes of age
And joins with a woman as one

(*) Repeat

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