Poor old Johnny Ray
Sounded sad upon the radio moved a million hearts in mono
Our mothers cried
Sang along, who'd blame them
You're grown (you're grown up), so grown (so grown up) * *
Now I must say more than ever (come on Eileen)
Toora-loora-toora-loo-rye-aye
and we can sing just like our fathers
Come on Eileen oh, I swear (well he means)
at this moment you mean everything
With you in that dress, my thoughts (I confess)
verge on dirty, Ah come on Eileen
These people round here
wear beaten-down eyes sunk in smoke-dried faces,
so resigned to what their fate is