Oh how I wish I was middle class,
with me own leather briefcase and whistling in tune,
I’d learn how to eat, and how to clean me teeth,
oh what a life that would be.
Oh how I wish I was working class,
living in a dustbin and gnawing on bones,
I’d drink from the drains, sing moronic refrains,
oh what a life that would be.
Was you dreaming guvnor?
Yes.
Me too!
Dreaming of a life, a place I’ve never been,
dreaming what it might be like to play for the other team,
the grass is always greener,
the sinks are always cleaner,
when you’re on the other side.
’Ere, guvnor
What?
Why don’t we switch titfers and make our dreams come true?
What, I wear yours and vice versa?
That’t it!
That’s fantastic!
But it might just work…
- Instrumental -
Honestly…
Thanks guvnor, you saved my life.
Yes.
Y’know what, I don’t think I like this middle class lark.
No, and I don’t think I could bear living with scum like you.
I don’t blame ya… Oogh! Thanks guvnor.
Oh I’m so glad that I’m middle class,
with my own set of teeth and fingernails,
cultivating weeds to eat for my tea,
that is no life for me.
Oh I’m so glad that I’m working class,
tap water sandwiches and not whistling in tune,
dying young, hey, that’s my idea of fun,
that is the life for me.
That’s the life for me.
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