Don't funerals cost a bomb ..

Walking out into the street
I felt something under my feet
When l looked down, seeing a purse
Stuffed to the max with notes and cards

I quickly glanced around, but when
There was no interest paid, l then
Made a decision on the spot
To spend this money, yes, the lot

My palms were feeling rather wet
Cos l was now a thieving git
Plucking then stuffing big notes in
My pocket bulged, my face shinin'

Chucking in bins along my path
The woman's personal photographs
And credit cards, no use to me
The cash was all l wanted, see?

By the time l'd finished spending
Dosh that seemed to be, never ending
Well known, those posh carrier bags, draped
From my arms, l hailed a cab

Pointy shoes
Expensive coat
Scent and necklace for my throat
Sparkly dress that cost the earth
Where the fuck'd my concious went

Next morning, local radio playing
NEWSFLASH stops what l am doing
This old woman, weeping, saying
En route, lost son's funeral pay-in

Did l care
I did not
It was SHE who dropped it
Stupid clot