MAYBE  IT'S  BECAUSE  I'M  A  LONDONER

​Maybe it’s because I’m a Londoner that I live with my Mum
Maybe it’s because I’m a Londoner that I live in a slum
I get a funny feeling inside of me when mice run across my feet
Maybe it’s because I’m a Londoner I’ll end up on the street


Maybe it’s because I’m a Londoner I can’t afford the rent
Maybe it’s because I’m a Londoner I actually live in Kent
I get a funny feeling inside of me when the bailiffs bang on the door
Maybe it’s because I’m a Londoner that I’ll always be poor


Maybe it’s because I’m a Londoner I find it less than laudable
When ‘alf a million quid for a two-bed flat in Bow is deemed affordable
I get a funny feeling inside of me when folks say right to buy
The only right remaining I can see is the right to bleedin’ die


Maybe it’s because I’m a Londoner I fear that on that date
When my immortal soul presents itself before that pearly gate
St Peter will be there in a pinstripe suit and say with a toothy grin
“Deposit and three months’ rent up front or you ain’t comin’ in”


Maybe it’s because I’m a Londoner that when I go downstairs
To plead with Lucifer for lodgin’ amidst the flames and noxious airs
“We’d love to let you in” Old Nick will say peekin’ through the gloom
“But with all the lettin’ agents and landlords ‘ere we ain’t got bleedin’ room”


Maybe it’s because I’m a Londoner that by the time I die
The price of a plot in a cemetery in London’s got so ‘igh
That even once they’ve cashed my bank account and sold my jewels and gems
They’ll ‘ave to shove me corpse in a cardboard box and chuck me in the Thames
Or lay me out on ‘ampstead ‘eath, a tablet at my ‘ead
No ‘ope of a decent London ‘ome alive or bleedin’ dead
Alive – or  - blee – din’ - dead