Good Old Days

The old brick yard

The coal on the track

The old road sweeper

We followed called Jack

The fresh council estate

Out in the hills

Built to accommodate

The city’s overspills

From concrete jungle

To Pastures new

Urban people

Feeling brand new

Season features

Distinct each one

 Out with the lion

In with the lamb

Never cast a clout

‘Till May was out

Then the summer bout

We barely wore out

And winters were winters

That would last

Blowing blizzards

Drifts were vast

Free to play

Cats & dogs too

Fewer four wheeled monsters

To run us through

The rag-bone man

The AA man

The ice-cream van

Us kids ran

In our street

We’d disperse

Screaming at mum

To open her purse

A rubber balloon

A bottle of pop

An ice-cream cone

Enticed us lot

Once in the queue

We vied to beat

Our eyes scurried through

The vender’s sheet

Ice-cream cones

Singles & doubles

Gum screwballs

For blowing bubbles

Sundaes & wafers

One penny chews

A wealth of flavours

For us to muse

Ice pops, lolly pops

Jubbilees too

Some turned your chops

An hilarious blue

And for those

Who had more money to take

They’d go for a cone

With a 99 flake

As for

The rag-bone man

Who looked a bit of loon

As his hand-bell he rang

Whilst clutching a balloon

But for a balloon

We’d do anything

Even stripping mum’s room

Of her bedding

That just leaves

The AA man

With bottles of pop

On the back of his van

So every Sunday

We’d search high and low

Looking for empties

We’d get 5 pence a go