Jubilee Road

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It’s a late Friday night, the 
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street lamps are shining up in 
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my-- bedroom
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There’s a mighty big fight between
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 the thunder and lightning, I 
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wonder who-- will lose
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There’s a party balloon and I 
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ain’t been invited
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Hey, look at that moon, there 
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ain’t nothing like it
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All grey and gold
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Down on Jubilee Road

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Can see Mr. Bouvier, in his 
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two-bedroom basement in his 
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purple dungarees
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He’s grumpy and he’s grey, always 
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sweeping off the pavement 
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cigarettes and leaves
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His kid’s up in China and his 
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wife’s up in heaven
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Always I wave, ‘cause he’s got 
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this expression
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That he’s so-- alone
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Down on Jubilee Road

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Oh-- I think tomorrow night I will
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 knock on his door and hear all 
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about his life
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Because I think that’s the kind of 
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thing that I might like when I’m old
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When I’m old

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There’s Max and there’s Maude in 
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the house by the station, call them
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 my-- best friends
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But he drinks like a horse, and 
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she don’t appreciate it, all 
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this money he seems to spend
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I can hear them tonight; he can’t 
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find no vocation
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And the neighbours they sigh, at 
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that new generation
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Just getting stoned
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Down on Jubilee Road

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Oh, I think in the summertime I 
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will call you up make everything 
alright
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And we’ll fill up our cups with 
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that bitter wine, and I’ll show you
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I’ll show you

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The mice are still here, your 
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wardrobe’s still empty, and the 
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walls are still paper thin
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And the neighbours my dear, well I 
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think they still hate me for all 
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these songs I endlessly sing
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Because it ain’t no perfect 
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street, I ain’t no perfect lover
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And life it is brief, I don’t 
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think we get no other
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Come back home
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Down on Jubilee Road
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Down on Jubilee Road