Tattooed we dance the tango, in a melancholy way,
Bearded ladies, muscle men, freaks entering the affray.
Crowds come in from the suburbs to observe the perverse,
Jimmy the pick-pocket he's on the loose,
Mind out and watch your purse.
Frankie the brain damaged boxer, he's only got left a year,
The local bums take him for a round and for his blood they cheer.
Prostitutes do good business, they'll gob you for a days rent,
And if it's a boy that you're after, they're over behind the tent.
Roll Up, Roll Up, Roll Up, Roll Up
Roll Up, Roll Up, Roll Up, Roll Up, Roll Up.