Memoir of aa Barra' boy.

Me plates are smashed,
Me dogs are barkin’,
Back from market….. arse needs parkin’.

‘ave a scratch,
And wait for tea,
Wos the old girl done for me?

Fifteen quid,
For seven ‘ours,
To pay the gas an-uver powers.

…member back,
When I’s a lad,
On the barra’,
Me n dad

Wiv George,
Who ran the ‘Tatty’ stall,
An’  no ‘air  Mary’s ratty shawl.

Gawd we used to
‘ave some larfs,
Thas before your indoor baths.

Now all I got’s
Me Sunday best,
An’ a rattlin’ chest in an ‘oley vest.

He really put me
To the test,
That God o’ yours,
You sure I’m blessed?

Christ I’m tired,
Just rest me mince’s
And dream of apples ‘n’ pears
An’ quinces.

        --.--

He shut his eyes, his heart exploded.
He weren’t surprised, the dice were loaded.