Back Home Again

It’s a wet windy morning in old London town
And yesterdays’ beer makes my head spin around
Crossing ‘The Broadway’; they would near run you down
And I wish I was back home again

I’ve worked in this country for seven long years
I’ve had me some laughter, I’ve cried me some tears
And I’ve worked my arse off, for the price of some beers
God! I wish I was back home again

I step into a café for a breakfast of fry
And there’s plenty lads there, in the same class as I
But not one would look twice, if I dropped down and died
And I wish I was back home again

The waitress, she comes up and says with a sneer;
What elegant dish can I get for you dear?
Looking into her eyes I see hate there and fear
God! I wish I was back home again

Well, everyone’s rushing avoiding the snare
If its rats you are hunting, then I’ve found the lair
I would head for the boat but I haven’t the fair
And I wish I was back home again

I’ll be off out tonight drinking pints on the slate
And I’ll chat to a barman who calls me his mate
I’ll go back to the digs and to bed when its late
And I’ll dream I was back home again

To the pick, I’ve been slave; to the ‘Subby’ the same
And I can’t help but wonder, at what I have gained
I’d as well be in prison with a big ball and chain
And I wish I was back home again