Whitey on the Moon - 1972!!!
A rat done bit my sister Nell.
(with Whitey on the moon)
Her face and arms began to swell.
(and Whitey's on the moon)
I can't pay no doctor bill.
(but Whitey's on the moon)
Ten years from now I'll be payin' still.
(while Whitey's on the moon)
The man jus' upped my rent las' night.
('cause Whitey's on the moon)
No hot water, no toilets, no lights.
(but Whitey's on the moon)
I wonder why he's uppi' me?
('cause Whitey's on the moon?)
I wuz already payin' 'im fifty a week.
(with Whitey on the moon)
Taxes takin' my whole damn check,
Junkies makin' me a nervous wreck,
The price of food is goin' up,
An' as if all that shit wuzn't enough:
A rat done bit my sister Nell.
(with Whitey on the moon)
Her face an' arm began to swell.
(but Whitey's on the moon)
Was all that money I made las' year
(for Whitey on the moon?)
How come there ain't no money here?
(Hmm! Whitey's on the moon)
Y'know I jus' 'bout had my fill
(of Whitey on the moon)
I think I'll sen' these doctor bills,
Airmail special
(to Whitey on the moon)
__________________
Choose Liverpool. Choose the dole queue. Choose to scam disability benefit. Choose mind-numbing, grinding efficiency over flair. Choose Torben Piechnik, Istvan Kozma and Paul Stewart. Choose not to win a single league title since the backpass rule was implemented. Choose penalties. Choose car stereos, hubcaps and stanley knives. Choose to trade on your proud sense of tradition and then not lift a finger in protest when two American billionaires who don't even know the name of your club decide to buy it. Choose to win the European Cup whilst only having to play seven matches. Choose to bask in a perpetual, sickening, media love-in. Choose celebrities who **** off out of your city as soon as they have earned the money to do so and then spend the rest of their lives harping on about how wonderful it is. Choose to sing about Munich until confronted with your own tragedy. Choose to end it all in an orgy of self pity, just another excuse to perpetuate the grief culture spawned by your selfish, insular ****ed-up excuse for a city. Choose your future. Choose Scouse.
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