The 1970's ©
Dalton in Furness, England
First day at St Patrick's High,
Decimalisation day nigh,
Sylvester and Tweety Pie,
Wur still funny.
Ha'penny Caramels disappeared,
The inside o yer scarf, pult doon roon yer ears.
Mr Cunningham's belt, held no fears,
Bit it seemed ye goat less fur yir money.
School trips tae Girvin or Ayr,
The English teacher, unaware,
We'd hid Newcy Broons and Whiskey somewhere,
Till we threw it aw up oan the bus.
Some sad gits liked "Marmalade",
Me an ma pals wur aw intay "Slade",
(A kin mind, when the first Live album was made,
it sure sounded heavy tay us!)
Skinny-Rib jumpers, Oxford Bags,
Levy Stay-press, Kensitas Fags,
Save up the coupons, Bazooka Joe gags,
Send away for the X-Ray specs.
The gangs on the school train, would try no tay mix,
Till they sent a 3 carriager, insteed o a six.
There wiz nuthin a good sharp compass widnay fix,
Tay get fae wan Station tay the next.
The "Spur", the "Dinky", the railway bridge pongs,
The "Haldane Hatchets", the "Bowl o' Meal" Tongs,
The Spam Valley Scout Troup, where no-one belongs,
But there's one memory, that really is odd!
"Dad, don't get yir petrol fay Texaco!"
I think it wiz the World Cup in Mexico.
When a think back noo, it makes me vex ye know,
Collecting coins, o the England squad!
When Monty Python wiz still a hoot.
John Peel, before the punks came oot.
For weddings a double-breasted suit,
No tay mention platform shoes.
Before the Jam, wi their "Eton Rifles"
There wiz the City Bakery's fresh cream trifles,
The back o the chapel, where the laughter stifles.
It's nay wonder, a now love the Blues!