In old Limehouse, they call it Orange Blossom Land. I'm so weary, cause no one seems to understand.
And those weird China blues never go away. Sad, sad, mad blues for all the while they seem to say.
Old Limehouse kid, old Limehouse kid, going the way that the rest of them did. Poor broken blossom and nobody's child. Haunting and taunting, you're just kind of wild.
Old Limehouse blues are the real Limehouse blues. Learned from the natives, those sad China blues. Rings on your fingers and tears for your crown. That is the story of old Chinatown.
Old Limehouse blues are the real Limehouse blues. Learned from the natives, those sad China blues. Rings on your fingers and tears for your crown. That is the story of old Chinatown.
Limehouse, that's where the blues are sung. And if you want some, make foo young. Turn right at Trafalgar and left at Leicester Square. I'm past Piccadilly and Jack, I ain't nowhere.
Limehouse in London's Chinatown. Limehouse, you'd better sail on down. Rings on your fingers and tears for your crown. That is the story of Limehouse. Sad, sad story of Limehouse. Limehouse in old Chinatown.
Limehouse in old Chinatown.