Strolling down the Ginza, on a little R&R,
Laughing with the Go Go girls fronting every bar,
With back pay in our pockets and good times on our mind,
We set out in earnest to leave the war far behind.
Dropping in at Rosie’s to sink a beer or three,
In nothing flat, with a squeal, there’s Yoko on your knee,
The sounds of the big bands are wailing in the gloom,
As you furtively grope the hostess as you dance around the room.
By now the memories of the front have faded far from your mind,
As a heady excitement leaves all inhibitions behind,
The Asahi keeps on coming, the day turns to night,
When all at once the floor comes up, boy! who put out the lights.
You wake up in the morning, your eyes all puffed and red,
There’s little guy’s with hammers, pounding in your head,
You pick yourself up from the floor where you had spent the night,
Stagger to the open door, blinded by the light.
Back on the Ginza, wishing you were dead,
Trying to remember what it was the M.O. said,
Now with R & R over and back in the line,
With nothing left but memories, ah! the taste of summer wine.
Fifty years have now gone by, but sometimes with a smile,
I fondly remember the Ginza, that glittering, sinful mile.
My wife looks across the room from the comfort of her chair,
Sees the smile upon my face, and wonders what it’s doing there.