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!