When I was a young man
(as all good tales begin)
I was taught to hold out my hand
And for my pay
I worked an honest day
and took what pittance
I could win
Now I'm a working John
and I'm a working Joe
and I'm doing what I know
for God and the Economy
Big brother watches over me
And the state protects
and feeds me
And my conscience
never leaves me
And I'm loyal to the unions
who protect me at all levels
And as I grew the winds
of fortune blew
and the bank smiled down upon me
And mortgaged to the hilt
I threw the breeze
of caution behind me
Now I'm a working John
and I'm a working Joe
and I'm good at what I know
And God and the Economy
have blessed me with equality
Now I'm equal to the best of you
And better than the rest of you
who would criticise my success
in times of national unrest
<Interldue>
Now I own my horseless carriage
in its central-heated garage
And I commute eighty miles a day
up at seven to make it pay
I direct ten limited
companies with seeming
consummate expertise
two ulcers and a heart disease
a trembling feeling
in both knees
I'm a working John
and I'm a working Joe
and I'm good at what I know
And God and the Economy
Big brother watches over me
And the state protects
and feeds me
And my conscience
never leaves me
And I'm loyal to the unions
who protect me at all levels
I'm a working John
and I'm a working Joe
I'm a working John
and I'm a working Joe
cked down
and they put you first in line
And so you finally ask yourself
just how big you are
and take your place in a wiser
world of bigger motor cars
<Intelrude>
So Where the hell was Biggles
when you needed him
last Saturday
And where were all the sportsmen
who always pulled you though
They're all resting down
in Cornwall
writing up their memoirs
for a paper-back edition
of the Boy Scout Manual
See there! A man born