Chinwag Pies

Chinwag Pies A crowd gathers Where the poor run wild, Relentlessly taunting An innocent child, Scathing, scalding Thieving eyes, Scrimping, scraping Chinwag pies. Two a penny For those that beg, A clip round the ear For your gammy leg, Gossiping mothers Cannot abide The bastard child Of the old dockside. "Hello sailor, Empty your pocket, Got me shilling For me golden locket?" Ne're-do-well harlot, Talk of the town, Don't belong round here In her five bob gown. "What about me boy? An urchin for sure, Spare him the price Of being poor" Toss him a penny, Toss him a pound, We don't want his sort Skulking around, Shove him this way, Shove him that, Shove him in a coffin With his begging hat. The crowd disperses Back to their lives Of hen pecked husbands And drunken wives. Suburban gardens, Plastic flowers, Hair in curlers, Nattering for hours, Over the fence Spinning their lies With folded arms And chinwag pies.