9 August 2012
Every bleedin' budget it's the same ol' bleedin' fing, Up goes bleedin' petrol, and the same goes for me drink, It's gettin' so us workin men can't 'ave our perks in peace, An' as for bleedin' ciggies well I guess I'll 'ave to cease.
An' now me ol' girl's kickin' off 'cos she ain't got no stout, I tells 'er it ain't my fault but then all she does is shout, An' it's me wots as to hump it down the offie for 'er drink, An' when I gets 'ome afterwards I 'as to man the sink!
But I don't mind 'er kickin' off as longs I got me cigs, With 20 fags a day I reckon I could live in digs, They's cheap enough down Bromley Street then I don't 'as to share, An' she can kiss my arse 'cos I'll be livin' without 'er.
20 A Day • Opuss № I