Forty Eight Knicker

Stop n rewind if only we could,

Times were bad times were good,

How different things are today,

The cost of things we have to pay,

My first wage was forty eight knicker,

This was a week’s wage for a tatty picker,

From this me ma took fifteen quid,

For all the washing and cooking she did,

She said it’s your board as you are a working lad,

Everything in for money not so bad,

So it left me with thirty three, if I can count,

Eighteen year old with that vast amount,

Beer was less than fifty pence a pint,

So ten quid was suffice for a Saturday night,

Bus fare into town for less than thirty pence,

Fish n chip supper if you had any sense,

So with twenty quid left and feeling flush,

Might be a taxi home instead of a bus,

Now thirty year ago that’s how long it’s been,

By heck all the changes we now have seen,

A bus in to town cost nearly four quid,

Over a thousand percent more than it did,

A night out cost eighty to ninety pound,

That for drinks, and dance beat sound

Fish n chip supper well that’s long gone,

Taxi home if you can afford one,

Money had value and value you got,

These days unfortunately sadly not!

johnsbucket