RUSTY My birthday was soon to come, eleven years I would be. Then Mom and dad would buy a puppy-dog just for me The morning dawned upon my day and happiness was mine For laying upon my bed asleep was a lovely puppy, all mine. He was white and brown with large round eyes so friendly and warm was he only one name could ever be his ‘Rusty’ it would be. We stayed good pals for many years shared happiness and tears And when I took to me a wife he welcomed her into his life. Rusty shared our joy one night as to us was born a little girl And as she took her first faltering step rusty was there. The sad day came with a knock on the door from the old tramp ‘Mr Scrubbs’ He told me a hunting-man had had nearly killed my little girl But with all the strength the old dog had he’d pushed her to the ground The shot-gun made a terrible noise and Rusty lay on the ground This the old man told me as he laid my old friend down He said, “ I must be thankful for the life of my little girl” My best friend had given all and I know will never return And with each year my little girl grows my thoughts to him do turn And of the life I’d shared with him always faithful and trusting The best friend I’d ever had my old pal, Rusty,

THE RAIN The rain is falling on my roof Boof! Boof! Boof

BLAME Falling footsteps found in the rhythm of passing time for one brief moment your life touches mine Lost in lonely walks on a cinder-stone lane we held quiet loving thoughts whispered in your name I sit and cry each evening wondering why I don’t die I hear your footsteps I turn, To face a lie Why can’t life go on like it use to be just you and me And now I walk the empty lane calling your name but always it’s the road that answers I’m the one to blame

WORK I’m working all day to earn me pay just working all day to earn me pay I can’t discover what will make me frae Just graft all day, can’t stop for me tae I wake in the morning early to rise start with me hammer, I can’t open me eyes if I sleep on the job t’would be no surprise just working all day to earn me pay. Wish me mam was the boss she would give me a rise six-pence a day can’t feed seven tykes if me Dad was alive he would give me a thump for working twelve hours in this owd dump. They tax me pay, me food and me tae I can’t even save without loosing some way and when my toes turn-up and I finally say I leave me kids a thought every day the tax will get it, they’ll find a way just working all day to earn me pay just working all day to earn me pay The missess works the loom has done for years can’t stand to see a child’s lonely tears no food, no clothes and the little one grows must keep working ‘can’t go slow must keep working till we all go old just working all day to earn me pay just keep working ‘till judgment day So, when the years have finally gone and me last days work is over and done and there’s nowt left of me to carry on I’ll spare some thought for me young uns and hope they learned well what I taught ‘em work all day, keep poverty away work all day, keep depression at bay work all day, and earn your pay work all day, and earn your pay

BEHIND THE SCENE The nice man behind the scene he knows just what I need a most helpful chap in every degree

LATE EXCUSE Yes Sir, I know Sir. You see, I came home at three a.m. and overslept, no, it won’t happen again. Pardon, yes, well, the alarm Didn’t go off, so you see I’m late Again. Is it that time Sir? I didn’t realise, Well you know there wasn’t Enough room on the bus for me, No, I couldn’t be here on time, you see? No. The other day I turned away And it was gone, no, not my brain Sir. My fare. Sorry I’m late Sir, no I didn’t oversleep I got up in plenty of time, just as I put on my coat well, It could catch most folk (coff) well I beg your pardon Sir, But perhaps even you must go to the loo! Sorry sir, It won’t happen again. Last Friday? Well yes, to tell you the truth I woke up bright and early Though it was Sunday, so I turned to lie in Until Mother started makin her din. Yes, I know Sir, it won’t happen again. The bus broke down Sir, Pardon? Yes the service is bad It’s the fourth time this week or is it the third? No sir I won’t be detered, I’ll be in on Monday waiting here in my chair No, It’s alright Sir, Don’t worry I won’t go elsewhere.

SLOW DOWN With gentle persuasion my mind gives in and my heart slows down to let life in with thoughts of love for all mankind for the God who’s life is for all time In quietude the answer comes the road I had taken could only be wrong when words of frustration roll away from my tongue how could I have made it last so long?

MY FRIENDS I have a friend named Mr White he’s in a sorry plight he’s got himself two girlfriends which you would think alright but Mr Whit’s in difficulty trying to sort ‘em out it’s one each night if she’s lucky and the other she gets nowt. I know a Mr buckle-eye and he’s doing his very best he take her out and plays with her and gives it all his best but when it comes to courtin’ time I’ll tell to you the truth poor Mr buckle-eye he’s gettin’ the brewers-droop I have a friend named Albert he’s really rather fat and when it comes to courtin’ and hangin’ up his hat he has a little problem doing things like this they say he needs a three-foot start to bridge a gap like his I know a trooper called William he’s a real country gent he opens doors and pulls up chairs for every pretty wench he salutes a girl in real fine style he always tries to please but when they want some gratitude their Willies stood at ease I know a lad called Christopher he’s very very polite he’s kindly and considerate and does his thing just right I can’t find a fault in him and I think you must agree for in spite of all my modesty that young lad is me

AREN’T I Aren’t I silly aren’t I dumb Life should be a lot of fun.

WHY? I’ve been sitting in my lonely room far too long Trying to piece together words that went wrong to improvise a true life story would just be unkind unsettle memories in the corridors of my mind I can’t understand why you left me perhaps I may one day find out why did we have to kiss from the very start why did you have to make time to touch my heart why don’t we see the things we leave behind why should a short meeting be so unkind Why ?

A 40 TON THOUGHT Sun burns, road turns, in hypnotic delight turn out to fight a world well taught from battles well fought Experience gained over every terrain twist and turn. Stop and learn, come back yet again. Plough through mud, snow and sand never fear with power in hand Push in, shove out, pull back, turn about, go on, try, put the world to rout In a forty-ton truck who needs the help?

A RESTAURANT MEAL The waiter serves my meal the food I want to eat I must do, it looks at me with such appeal A young waiter watches me sitting alone, in my tennis shoes The men across the room cluck away of things that will pass with the day Dicky-bows, red, black and blue my shirt is greasy but I’ve got a tie just like you, put in my pocket when I entered the room Yes please, what do I do, get on my knees? No, just let my mind drift with the breeze coming from the kitchen door They poor out and stream in if you don’t order now mate you’ll get nowt. The girls look nice and ladylike cock one finger, tip gently, oops! Try again Emily The carpets are deep red and plush, the tables neat and kept well-brushed-clean-looking penguins in dark trousers, white jackets and dark skins and a smile for the ladies that always wins

WHAT PEACE The sound of falling rain on a make-shift roof gives a peace of mind that is rarely known in the world today. It is Nature taking her course, we either like her or we don’t. As I listen to the patter of raindrops on my home-made roof, I can hear loud thuds and booms as a cluster of tiny droplets unite and crash simultaneously on to my resisting hideout and the soft touch of raindrops lightly stroking and bouncing across my hidden den. Whispering their own joy of a long but quick earth-bound journey. Oh what peace. Always, always there is a breeze coming through the gaps, the holes where there should be a wall or a door, long ago removed, or perhaps never made. A breeze that can’t be felt, but, without fail sends a chill down my spine and a shiver over my entire body which can only be described as totally satisfying in a world made up of velvet cushions and central heating. It doesn’t matter if a passing motorcar tries to attack the peace that abounds. It comes for a moment and is gone. Maybe for ever at that speed. The most satisfying of shivers that can be found must be in one of my favourite ways. Hidden away from all but God and Nature, sitting under the spreading branches of a huge tree with the wind bellowing around my ankles. I try to tuck my knees tighter under my chin and huddle deeper within the warm heavy jacket to protect me from the gusts of wind that sends leaves dancing, twirling away through long grass and flitting over the mossy ground, which lies between tangled roots. Oh what peace. The tiny pools of muddy water twitch and jump with each piercing raindrop, send-ing miniature waves over to a neighbouring pool, then Boom! A giant silver globule pounds the earth, even the most ardent insects slip and scurry away, as high up in the boughs the next leaf prepares to unleash it’s lethal load, cutting a straight down-ward path tearing at whispery, glistening webs until joining the vibrating liquid with a sudden Splosh! Being in itself destroyed but bursting forth to a new life Within. I can hear the perfect tones of a Blackbird flitting deep within the wood, even in this heavy down-pour her melodious sound can be felt warming my brain in the beauty of quiet listening. I wonder why she doesn’t become wet and miserable? Out of the woods and deep within the bosom of a hard-worked, sleepy city peace of a similar nature is found late at night within deserted streets except for an empty crisp packet dancing it’s way up a one-way street only to be squashed with a loud pop! By a solitary taxi making his last journey home. In the distance can be heard two pairs of shoes trotting through the rain, there they are, holding on to each other hid-den under his over-coat away from the world and the cold, biting breeze. I am hidden deep within a shop door-way huddled into the corner to keep dry and warm, not too warm though, I mustn’t let any free shivers pass by. The blinds are down in my shop it looks dark and dismal, almost forbidding in it’s darkness, it could be a tie shop. The pavement by my door-step is alive with hundreds of tiny lakes all shimmering and moving the steady sweeping rain and locked within each pool is a confusion of re-flected neon colour as active as a very lively West-Indian party full of con-trasting design. Just look at that gutter, water pouring steadily past me as if there is no end to the supply, pushing away anything foolish enough to be caught, it looks just like Old Father Thames himself in full flight, carrying cigarette ends, empty sweet wrappers, match-sticks and look! A cockroach spinning faster and faster, poor thing. Patter, patter, patter, is the sound of rain water that has collected on a high window ledge and is easing it’s way over and then falling to be broken on the canvas blind below it’s source, then dribbling away down ragged strand, windswept and faded, until finally joining the mass queuing to meet water cascading into Mr Thames himself. It’s happening everywhere. Rain pinging off dustbins, thudding into empty cardboard boxes left untidily in lonely alley ways. And constantly licking at my door step. It’s funny how droplets soon warm up as they trickle down the back of one’s neck. And now, a feeling of total satisfaction spreads across my thought with a fleeting moment of joy brought with the latest shiver in what could only be described as a perfectly well pent day. Oh what peace!

DON’T WANT TO BE A SINNER I Don’t want to be a sinner. I Don’t want to be a sinner. Don’t want to be a sinner. I Don’t want to sin. Throw away the whiskey throw away the wine, believe in love, it’s so divine. Throw away the whiskey throw away the wine, believe in Love you will in time. So, give up your smoking, give up the booze, you’ve all to gain now and nothing to lose. Go help the world, go love mankind for that’s what love does all the time. Don’t want to be a sinner. I Don’t want to sin. So I gave up the smoking and I gave up my gin, went to help my brother and saw Love win.

DRIVEN NAILS My Mother she was a Lady her husband he was a man, and I've only done what I can. I've lived a life been true to that life and spoke only the words “I am that I am” But I see that the history book has re-painted me, but the stories warped, the Truth turned I’m not, I’m not, I am not what I am, I am not what I am, It’s wrong to pull them out, Driven Nails into me, the law is right you cannot fight, the bad man, the bad man, the bad man is me, can’t you see? So here I sit in the electric chair, give me one moment, The time is right t’ throw the switch but please my God forgive them, forgive them, forgive them.

WIGGY Wiggy was a one time man runnin’ as fast as he can and makin’ out that he’s a man with a hectic sceptic’s well tried plan

SO LET’S SHAKE HANDS Goodbye my friend so-long if we don’t part now I’ll thump thee (you) so let’s shake hands and make new plans and say good neet (night) tha (you) monkey We’ve had reet (very) good neet (night) we have and let us not forget it so let’s shake hands and make new plans before on nose tha (you) gets ‘it (hit) We’ve supped reet (very) well tha (you) knows and thas (you) aired-thi-lungs (spoken) and rightly so let’s shake hands and make new plans before tha starts thi (you) feetin’ (fighting) But I wish you all T’ (the) best I do and I hope thees (you’re) not offended so let’s shake hands and make new plans ‘Cos (because) I’ve only bin (been) pretendin’