The Night The Pugilist Learned How To Dance

In the streets around here

There was nobody tougher than me

I was quick with me fists and fast with me footwork as you can plainly see

But while fighting was useful for getting your way among the toughs of the town

Where you could hold sway

There had to be something that was better than this

I was 15 years old and I'd never been kissed

Well of course she'd ignore me, her friends would all sneer

At me bloody nose dripping and me cauliflower ear

For it's hard to convince in a romantic pose, with a lovely black eye and a broken nose

Where a girl is attracted to skills more refined than the pugilist's art, and so I inclined

To take meself serious as a modern romancer

And I secretly learnt all the moves of a dancer

Ye swing to the left, ye swing to the right

Keep your eyes on your partner, more or less like a fight

Ye just follow the rhythm, and ye keep to the beat

The important thing's never to look at your feet

Then a miracle happens, your mind's in a trance

Though the strategy's subtle, retreat and advance

It's all about attitude, all in your stance

Attention to detail, leaving nothing to chance

Which explains how the pugilist finally learned how to dance

Well, I'd waltz with a broomstick and if I was caught

I'd pretend I was sweeping or practising sport

But I really had eyes for your mother, ye see

Wanting her to acknowledge this new version of me

But now everyone's watching, expecting I'll fail

But there's fire in me belly, there's wind in me sails

I knew it was risky and I was taking a chance

I couldn't retreat now, I had to advance

So I swing to the left, I swing to the right

Keep me eyes on me partner, like I would in a fight

I just keep to the rhythm and follow the beat

The important thing's never to look at your feet

But a miracle's happened, and your mind's in a trance

They're all laughing and cheering and looking askance

On the night that the pugilist finally learned how to dance

It's a three-minute round and you're back in your corner

You're licking your wounds, just like little Jack Horner

Don't let your guard down, try a jab with your right

Or you're losing on points by the end of the night

Then a miracle happens, and everyone's screaming

You're pinching yourself, just in case you're still dreaming

You've taken the initiative, you've taken your chance

It's the night when this pugilist finally learned how to dance

In a bout where the strategist's bridges were burned

Where it seemed that his fortune had suddenly turned

'Twas the night that this scrapper was suddenly dapper

And this poor fellow's heart was still going like the clappers

The night that the pugilist finally learned how to dance