There's better ways of making cash
Than waiting in parks and selling your arse
But I'm on the move and about to stay,
Always old in a very young way
I'm a fool to myself when I think now,
I believed in the why but didn't know how
And now I don't fit with no place to go,
Only down in a comical show

All of the promises and all the dreams,
Couldn't put humpty back on his feet
All the queens horses and all the queens guards,
Couldn't put money back in the yards

There's better ways of losing your pride,
Than waiting in queues for a cheque at a time
But I've been taught that it's me whose the ponce,
And I can only act as I've been taught to respond

But there's better ways to make ends meet,
Than shuffling through life dead on your feet
But here we are and there they stay,
With their very small handouts in a very big way