When I was fifteen I had a black-blue jacket and sideboards to my chin
I used to go around in a two-tone Zephyr with a mean and nasty grin
Twelve-inch bottoms on my stardust flares and socks of dazzling green
When Gene Vincent Craddock remembered the look of an Upminster rock 'n' roll teen

With a silver-dollar hairstyle, been cut down
A silver-dollar hairstyle, been cut down
Amazing that feeling's still around

My good friend Friar wore a powder-blue suit, a criss-cross lurex thread
He turned seventeen bought a big motorcycle, he started wearing leather instead
I could not afford a ruby snaffle tie or a black suede fur lined shoes
The Gene Vincent Craddock that people still remember when the Upminster Kid walked through

With a silver-dollar hairstyle, been cut down
A silver-dollar hairstyle, been cut down
Amazing that feeling's still around

Sunday afternoon at the Romford Gaumont, rum and black at the Bell Hotel
He stole into the park, for a jabba in the dark, little juvenile ne'er-do-well
He'd run a steel comb along the Regent jukebox, a little bit of fever now and then
The Gene Vincent Craddock I surely wish I was an Upminster kid again

With a silver-dollar hairstyle, been cut down
The silver-dollar hairstyle, been cut down
Amazing that feeling's still around