Red bricks guard the country pubs

So do us poor stay poor, as the rich get filthy?

With us spending our days

Lying under blankets

The security of youth

Fades and leaves you with a truth

Things always lean this way

But Thursday, ill be coming home

To shout out from the chimney tops

The red bricks guard the country pubs

Of some pocket pinching nobodies that dwell inside

Who’s got the plan can you speak up?

Who’s got a plan can you speak up?

Please tell me who holds these magic cheques?

Mr banker will you calm us in our beds?

We are sick of sitting barefoot

Whilst bedlam lies amongst us

The cities streets are were pressure builds in most countries

But Thursday, ill be coming home

To shout out from the chimney tops

The red bricks guard the country pubs

Of some pocket pinching nobodies that live a lie

Who’s got the plan can you speak up?

Because I don’t hear no words

Who’s got a plan can you speak up?

Just a little louder

I’ve had some plans but they’re sealed shut

I raised my fist

Asked some questions

Moaned for days

Then had a tantrum

If you want to be king you will find no way

Sick of acting like the one who always got short-changed

But on Thursday,

Ill be coming home, to reside in, my family abode

conductors conduct themselves in peculiar ways.

You were supposed to be on the 1.20!?

Brighton trains to London were cancelled.... Yeah, stamp my ticket you weedy power trip pussy cat, let me read my book in peace, the book that tires your eyes but works the mind, I didnt board this train to join a herd of sheep, I joined it to scream out of its windows and absorb the beauty of observation amid the sticky humid oxygen stricken chewing gum covered interior of this tin tub on steel lines. I have to halt myself from quoting Page 181 verse 11 to the onlooking passengers. . "a man offers to sell me a six pack of whoop-ass and a bottle of I know you can. I ask him how much? he says, you aint got enough motherfucker, but i bet you can afford some of that lonely shit"

I calm myself then grab my pen, scrawling this memo, I felt a little happy knowing... There isnt an app for that, there aint an app for that.