kumbaworld
What it is
Knopfler, Mark
What It Is

The drinking dens are spilling out
Thereīs staggering in the square
Thereīs lads and lasses falling about
And a crackling in the air
Down around the dungeon doors
The shelters in the queues
Everybodyīs looking for
Somebodyīs arms to fall into
And itīs what it is
Itīs what it is now

Thereīs frost on the graves and the monuments
But the taverns are warm in town
People curse the government
And shovel hot food down
The lights are out in city hall
The castle and the keep
The moon shines down upon it all
The legless and asleep

And itīs cold on a tollgate
With the wagons creeping through
Cold on a tollgate
God knows what I could do with you
And Itīs what it is
Itīs what it is now

The garrison sleeps and the citadel
With the ghosts and the ancient stones
High up on the parapet
A Scottish piper stands alone
And high on the wind
The highland drums begin to roll
And something from the past just comes
And stares into my soul

And itīs cold on a tollgate
Where the Caledonian blues
Cold on a tollgate
God knows what I could do with you
And Itīs what it is
Itīs what it is now
What it is
Itīs what it is now

Thereīs a chink of light
Thereīs a burning wick
Thereīs a lantern in the tower
Wee Willie Winkie with a candlestick
Still writing songs in the wee wee hours
On Charlotte Street I take
A walking stick from my hotel
The ghost of Dirty Dick
Is still in search of Little Nell
And itīs what it is
Itīs what it is now
Oh itīs what it is
What it is now