Underneath the arches
We dream our dreams away
Underneath the arches
On cobblestones we lay
Every night you'll find us
Tired out and worn
Happy when the daylight comes creeping
Heralding the dawn
Sleeping when it's raining
And sleeping when it's fine
Trains travelling
By above
Pavement is our pillow
No matter where we stray
Underneath the arches
We dream our dreams away
Lovely melody, Bud. Do you remember when we first sang
it?
Yes, Ches. We used to sit on a seat with the Thames
Embankment behind us. You had a newspaper and read the headlines.
That's quite right, Bud. I've still got that paper. D'you
remember the date? Nineteen hundred and twenty-six.
Ches, read those headlines again.
Ah, here's one. Gertrude Edderley, eighteen-year-old American.
First woman to swim The Channel.
Listen to this. Cricket. Ashes for England after fourteen years.
Irish woman, Violet Gibson, shoots Mussolini in the nose.
Oh! listen. Churchill's unpopular budget. Five per-cent tax on
all legal bets.
Charlie Chaplin not to retire.
Second time in history, Atlantic flown by three Spaniards.
Here's one. Death of Barbara La Marr, film actress with five
husbands.
BBC asks for nine shillings instead of seven-and-six for wireless
licence.
Hopes of return to penny post.
Listen to this, Ches. Bookmakers in a bad way.
Ah, that'll be the day, Bud, well, things are a little
different now, aren't they?
They certainly are and if they keep on improvin' like they're
doin' now, you'll know where we'll be, back again
Sleeping when it's raining
And sleeping when it's fine
Trains rattling
By above
Pavement is our pillow
No matter where we stray
Underneath the arches
We dream our dreams away
