I've got a mate who's a shaman Gets anything you want in no time A weekend at Bernies Is a few days without any sunshine I know a right dour faced bastart A really nice guy but he hates life He's got sarcastic eyeballs And a tongue that can slash like a lockknife These faces I've known Growing up on the streets in the Southside From the hills of the Milk To the parade in the East End I remember the change in the accents On the Westside Making money Till there no time Left to spend It's all bullshit But we all Still pretend When I was a wane I used to sell puff to make money But we'd smoke all the profit And by Friday it was no longer funny I know a guy who's a lightweight One or two jars and he's buckled He's the guy that loses keys Has to break into his own house And gets huckled These faces I've known Growing up on the streets in the Southside From the swords in the schemes To the Artschool dreams of the toon And when I lie awake in the night time These things I remember Some happy some sad Bring a smile to my face when I'm doon In the Priory Or in Sinbads In Dunoon I've been all round the world But there's nowhere compares to my hometown The mayhem o Glesga is buried deep in my blood And there's no other place where a cunt, might no be a putdown It's 13 degrees and there's folk in the street in the scud No the best place But there's Diamonds in the Mud No the best place But there's Diamonds in the Mud No the best place But there's Diamonds in the Mud