The Working Class Lament

It’s brush me teeth, straighten up me tie, have me a bit of breakfast and kiss the wife goodbye
But let me tell you mate; the life I’m living is nothing but a lie
Why it’s scouse of course
That makes me the man I am
The 9 to 5, I don’t give a tinker’s damn
It’s down with me chums at the pub that I love
Sure it’s the chips and the ale that I crave
But me mum, she told me,
“You’re not a bum; you’re an Englishman, not some scum.”
We’re not common folk, we come and go as others; then it’s drag yourself up from the gutter and don’t be behaving like your brother
So, it’s brush me teeth, straighten up me tie, have a bit of breakfast
And off to the pub I fly.

Sorry, mum.

Sheila Bernstein