Lyrics: Louis Dunford
Music: Louis Dunford
I'm in the toilets of a shit old club
While all of these other boys are taking drugs
I'm talking with Bossman about love and loss and
Where life goes wrong
'cause he works all night just to take home a wage
Selling chewing gum and lollypops and cheap aftershaves
To the boys in huaraches sniffingΒ c*****e off car keys
All night long
And I say mate
Don't you ever get sick of the sight
Of the drunken fights
And the smell, of shit, sick and piss
There's got to be more to life than this
And he said son I've got no riches to boast
But see in luck and love, I swear I'm richer than most
I've got a wife and two kids
There's so much more to my life than this
So no spray, no lay
no splash, no gash
Cheap aftershaves in exchange for cash
I'm not making a killing bruv
But I'm making a living and that's enough
I'm on my way home in the backseat of a cab
And I'm talking with bossman while I eat my kebab
I'll ask him if he's been busy, what time he gets off and dizzy
From 'round this way
'cause he works all night on a twelve-hour shift
With the gypsy jeans and the beauty queens and the lads on the piss
They've had a couple of shandies mixed with charlie and mandy
Every weekend's the same
And I say, mate, don't you ever get sick of abuse from the drunken youths
Leaning out your window being sick
There's got to be more to life than this
And he said son I've got no riches you see
But my son's at school and education ain't free
He'll be a doctor someday
If he wants a future we've got to pay
So I'll drive all night with these drunken kids
Who need to stop to get cash or need to stop for a piss
I'm not making a killing, bruv
But I'm making a living and that's enough
I'm at the counter of my local shop
Where bossman's been working since we were kids in the blocks
Every Saturday night he would serve me with my fake ID when I was fifteen years old
And he's still there now before I go to bed
And in the morning with the bakers a pint of milk and loaf of bread
He sleeps and he showers then works another twenty four hours
You see it's taking its toll
And I say mate, don't you ever get sick of this place stacking shelves every day
Come on bruv, you've got to admit, there's got to be more to life than this
And he said son I'm barely making ends meet
But there's a war back home and people die in the street
Said I thank God every day, that me and my family have got away
So I'll spend my life in this shop but it's sweet
'cause I don't fight to survive and I don't fight just to eat
And I'm not making a killing, bruv
But I'm alive and I'm living and that's enough