I'm gettin' down to me last bloody quid,
Can't 'ave 'alf a pint with me mate Syd,
Wifey an' her sissy's both gone to the shops
An' I got a teen bird glued to 'Top of the Pops'.
Me lad's gone off to the National Front;
He always was such a silly...runt.
Ain't findin' no joy in watchin' test cricket,
Wanna bean the bowler with his own bloody wicket.
Me crisps bag is empty, no tea in the tin
An' God, ain't that such a cryin' sin!
It's a miracle I ain't on the soddin' dole
But I ain't quite ready to sell my soul,
Yet I'll work fer piss pay unless I brown nose.
Oh yeah, ain't that just the way it goes!
I got a naff life
An' it's the only one I've ever had.
London's skies'r so, so grey,
An' I been feelin' awful bad!
DB/11.2020
Happy(?)Guy Fawkes Day, o all ye birds and boyos!
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