NEXT TO US
I live in a part of Singapore called Joo Chiat, named after a guy who
came from China as a penniless labourer in 1877.
It’s a pretty colourful place. You have fashionable bars and
restaurants, very instagrammable cafes, and spin studios. But you also
get karaoke bars, massage joints, great Vietnamese food, and some
working girls. And some time ago there was an initiative by
somebody to “Save Joo Chiat”, a call to round up all the “unwanted
elements” and chuck’em out. But the way it was said…. people get all
“holier-than-thou”, or “worthier-than-thou” about it, and it all started
to sound very bigoted after a while. But we are a migrant society. And
as someone who can trace my own ancestry to the coolies who came
here with nothing but the shirts on their backs, I just find that
completely inexcusable. What makes us better than them?
Some guy writes a letter saying let’s keep the streets here clean
Clear out all the trash, and by that trashy folks, I mean
We don’t want them messing up this place we built so proud
And we don’t want them talking quite so loud
What they’re selling isn’t good, the only nice thing is their food
And who asked them to come here anyway?
They’re not like the best of us, they’re not like all the rest of us
They don’t deserve to have a place to stay
​
Well all I say is bet they said the same of us
When we came here a hundred years ago
Bet someone said, they’re dangerous
Make sure they don’t live next to us
Just let ’em build their temples on the shore
But that’s it, no more
That’s it, no more
​
Some guy rode a boat here many generations past
Left his home and didn’t know how long the food would last
Life was to be gambled, and which way the die was cast
You wouldn’t know
You’ll never know
Years went by and still he stayed
He worked like hell, but sure, he played
There had to be some way to ease his mind
And the women here were not the marrying kind
When finally he brought his bride
From far away, to by his side
He knew that he’d be here for years to come
The towkay knew his coolie days were done
​
Well all I say is bet they said the same of us
When we came here a hundred years ago
Bet someone said, they’re dangerous
Make sure they don’t live next to us
Just let ’em build their temples on the shore
Let ‘em bring their opium and whores
Let ‘em sell it right up to our doors
But that’s it, no more
That’s it, no more
Someone needed something from me, something I could sell
It may not have been perfect, but it did the job as well
It may have saved a life from being just a living hell
And I wouldn’t be here if no one was buying
So what’s so wrong of me to keep on trying?
​
Well all I say is bet they said the same of you
When you came here a hundred years ago
Bet someone said, you’re dangerous
Make sure you don’t live next to us
Just go and build your temples on the shore
But that’s it, no more That’s it, no more
That’s it, no more That’s it, no more