Crisis Loan
Nine o’clock am doon at the broo
Scratch ma arse and join the big queue
No one can get a real job
(they all sit and moan)
They’re really just there
To get a crisis Loan
Giro in pocket
Skip the post office queue
Pay off the money lender,
The wife, ma mates, and the off-licence too
Twenty cans of super
And four litres of Eldee.
Four of us into the Rose Garden
To party and make yippee
Here cum the polis
Someone throws a punch
Batons come out of jackets
Crunch! Bang! Crunch!
Sore heeds and red eyed
We stand before the law too
Probation, community service and a fine,
But (said the old bastard) it’s Bar-L for you!