(brooker / reid)*      Lime street in the afternoon   Everybody crazy as a coon   I'm running round in my underpants   Trying to find some kinda romance      Quarter past three [sic] on lime street   I got whipped right offa my feet   Didn't realize that I'd been caught   Till I found myself in the county court      'mr judge,' I said, 'won't you please be kind   Have pity on me, a poor orphan child? '   Mr judge he says with a long mean frown   'orphan or not, you're going down!'      Well I screamed on my knees in the witness box,   'lord have mercy on my golden locks.'   The judge I could see that he was snide   He says, 'the only kind of blonde you are's a peroxide!'      Oh lime street, lime street   Lime street, that's where we meet