They sell vintage, modern and new knocked off clothes
Navel rings, earrings and pearls for your nose
You’re convinced it’s a bargain; they’ll drown you with charm
And that carpet you hated, is now under your arm.
They’re salesmen with medals, not for valour but skill
And their art is seduction, they change minds at will.
They see you coming and their brain starts to churn
All they see’s a punter with money to burn.
Why do we go there if we know it’s a con?
‘Cos one day I’ll go there and find that it’s gone.
Refreshing my mind keeps me young, sets me free,
Nostalgia’s just living a past life for me.
It’s the Barras, it’s vibrant, it’s buzzing, alive.
Posh suits and toerags all mingle and thrive.
In this old Metropolis on the banks of the Clyde
Where punters and sellers think they’re both just as wide.
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