Its a Song about a Road in West London, Part Junk Market Part, Morrocan Souk Part, Trendy enclave

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Its a Long Story

Come with me brother for now is the hour,
To walk in the shadow of Goldfingers Tower,
To the very north end of the Portobello,
To the wonderfull magical land,
To the Golborne Road.

Friday morning the wagons they come
Laden with treasure one by one,
To unload the riches of dead princes and kings,
The jewellry the silver the rare violins,
Are piled on the pavements for merchants who wait,
With coffee in the mist and the cold.
For the fabulous treasures and gold,
Of the Golborne Road

Dave is sitting outside of his shop,
Stella is upstairs designing a frock,
Toby's composing in his studio,
Whilst jerome sells a sofa in the street down below,
In the Golborne road.

Chrissy Harwood is shouting he has the best gear,
His paw paw and mango and banana are here
the tourists are walking without a care
As the Iman is calling the faithfull to prayer,
In the Golborne Road

if you are looking for something to eat,
The finest of food is right here on the street,
Sea bass felafel kebab and tagine,
Cous cous royale fit for a queen,
The people are coming from near and far,
To sample the pleasures of George's fish bar.