From the Pools to a Sea of Debt
¶ 1
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Once it was,
Sitting by the fireside,
Specs on the end of the nose,
Pencil poised,
Glancing at the form guide,
X’s carefully marked,
A hopeful moment,
In a humdrum week,
A studied departure
From the usual thrift.
¶ 2
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Now it is
Cheap booze and bookies
On every loudmouth street;
Drinking all through the night,
Betting all the long day,
An addictive money-go-round,
Until the buck stops
With some sort of parasite.
Ragged Trousered Philanthropy,
From the old working class
To New Labour.
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