Streets of the Gorbals run thick with the tales Three ladies that hing have seen all that's to be But the men folk still stride out tall and proud To the gates of the yard and its whistling call The riveters are meeting already With news of the slimming and fears of the cuts And the only possession I own of some value Is the labor I am and the labor I love Oh my pride lies washed up by the Quayside Will there be one more ride down the River Clyde Still each morning I walk from our room To stand in line ticket and name But friends are sent home now time and again Left with ghosts and whispers and all they became Threats and disputes ring from the wireless And what of those men that take longer than most As we gather together in crowds at John Brown's We listen to Reid stood shoulder to shoulder One more wave to old good friends As they take their last ride down the River Clyde Brothers be proud we are respected men We will fight for our basic rights to work these yards again Brothers be proud, brothers be proud We will march heads held high through these yards again The papers claim victory in our struggle A triumph for Glasgow, a show of our strength So why do I find myself on my way here To tell you my dear the news we both dread I don't know what I'll tell the kids As I take my last ride down the River Clyde Here I am drinking to forget Here I am desperate to remember Here I am in Brewers Fayre Wondering how did I ever get here How did I ever