Lady Muck

I'm not scared of getting my hands dirty,
That's for sure!
I've cleaned my fair share of toilets in my time,
And let me tell you,
A bit of elbow grease never hurt no body!
If it needs doin'
It needs doin'!
And no bugger else is gonna do it for ya'.
You see, if you're skint,
Some one will always feed ya' my love,
But no one will pay your bills - that's your job!
Aye, there's no pity for the penniless
With ne gas or electric
And why should they fella?
You need to roll up your sleeves
And and get a decent days graft under your leather!
An if you cannit find a job
I'll find one for ya'
Oh, you can snigger,
Point yer finger
But I see no shame in what I do.
I won't be cleaning toilets forever!
And you remember that, next time you think your clever.
Be nice to people on your way up
And even nicer to those who wipe your arse for ya'!
I've seen the worst,
Book savvy, smarty pants
Still shit yourself when your caught by chance,
And it's Joe Muggins here that cleans it all up
Not the lavvy fairy!
Its me, on my knees in my marigolds.
I'm a good young lass,
With a brain to match,
And me tabards a sight for bleached eyes.
I'm not signing on,
Or depending on me Mam.
So watch your lip son shine
Cause I'm not work shy.
To get what ya want
You've got to clean a few bogs,
And I earn more than most lay abouts,
All swings and round-bouts
And in the end it's a job,
Well done!

Canned Laughter

I’m just the canned laughter.
Tagging along to show the clown my support.
Hitting each working man’s club,
In silk shoulder pads and gold,
Cause we wouldn’t want him to die.
Would I.

He’s had the same set for 15 years.
Each rehearsed punch line like a time bomb.
Waiting to rip your mouth open,
Throw your heads back,
And laugh!
As he preaches funny to room full of hens in pink cowgirl hats
And I’m left watching G&T spilling out of the side of their mouths.

But hey,
Cathy’s clown couldn’t drink faster,
As his tears plop, one by one,
Into his own pint of bitter.
Because there’s not much to laugh about at home.
When the curtains have pulled back and the house lights are turned on,
And you realise there’s no glamour in the words he’s been poking,
Only truth in his witty observations.

He needs your laughter,
But hell I need it more.
You see,
Laughter is like petrol, that’ll last him the car journey home,
And the only punch line I’ll be getting,
Is in the morning when I have to explain to the kids,
I banged my face off the kitchen cupboard.
Again!
Because some bastard heckled him.