Any of us old buggers remember this ..........

Vernon from Ngatea

THOSE WERE THE DAYS
When I was just a little boy
We didn’t have a lot

My parents kept the lights on

With some silver in the slot

The tv was a rental one

That too was on a meter

But when I cast my mind back

Life back then, seemed so much sweeter

The larder wasn’t always full

Of tasty things to eat

But we didn’t notice hunger

As we played outside in the street

Our clothes weren’t always bought from new

Quite often worn before

But we didn’t follow fashion

Never thought to ask for more

My parent’s purses were empty

Except of course for dreams

But they always found some pennies

To buy us all Ice Creams

Our shoes were always measured

Our hair was always neat

I remember they insisted

You must take care of your feet!

School uniforms were granted

If needed given by the state

We looked as smart as anyone

When we walked through that school gate

In summer we picked berries

From the hedgerows in the field

Our fingers stained with purple

We delighted in our yield

No games consoles to keep us quiet

Our joy was climbing trees

Making dens in bales of straw

With grass stains on our knees

We didn’t know the world beyond

The place we use to play

We didn’t have a single care

As night just followed day

The girls would make their perfume

Boys got petals from the flowers

Often getting in hot water

Cos the blooms were never ours

We’d nick the fairy liquid tub

To have a water fight

And on the baking concrete

Our names we’d always write

We shared bikes and we shared footballs

Used our sweaters as the goal

And when the bitter winter came

We’d fill buckets up with coal

Every single chimney

Cast a plume into the sky

As we huddled by the fire

With a meat and tatty pie

Bath night was always Sunday

And the tub we had to share

A frozen dash from the bathroom

With Vosene suds in your hair

Scratch your name on the frosty pane

Before the curtains shut

Tucked under a heap of blankets

No choice but to stay put

We never took a holiday

Certainly not abroad

A day out to sunny Brighton

Was all we could afford

We’d paddle in the English Channel

And sit down in the foam

Ride a donkey up the beach

And wish we could take it home

Our kitchen was always full of steam

From the endless pans of spuds

And we volunteered for washing up

To play games with the suds

We made toast on the open fire

I can taste it to this day

Dripping in salted butter

It seems half a world away

Every Christmas there were presents

Underneath our tinseled tree

And always we were overjoyed

Whatever they may be

Never really knowing

They had cost our parents dear

And they wouldn’t clear the catalogue

Until Christmas came next year

In and out of houses

Up and down the street

Borrowing cups of sugar

We helped each other make ends meet

The house phone had restrictions

So we couldn't run the bill

And we only tasted Lucozade

If we were gravely ill

The doctor saw you on your sofa

With his stethoscope and bag

A week off school was endless

If you managed with the blag

John craven brought you newsround

Quite against your will

You rarely paid attention

You were waiting for Grange Hill

Vinyl records in the sideboard

And a smoked glass record player

You listened to pop music favorites

And you hated Leo Sayer

And when you went to bed at night

That then was parents’ time

You’d hear them downstairs singing

To Johnny Cash or Patsy Cline

Life back then was infinite

You never could grow old

There was nothing to be frightened of

With your parent’s hand to hold

Death was never mentioned

Too young to understand

It’s seems that life would just work out

The way you had it planned

But the years passed in minutes

There was no time to spare

Overnight it seems..... the silver threads

Adorned your parent’s hair

Your endless days were over

As time raced away at pace

And the happy days of innocence

Disappeared ... without trace

Don’t waste a single minute

Of this life with which you’re blessed

Things change in just a heartbeat

The ride can come to rest

Good times become just memories

Faces fade and smiles are lost

Don’t wish away a second

Hang on... at any cost

When I was just a little boy

We didn’t have a lot

But one day... all of that nothing

Will be the greatest gift I’ve got .