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When I Was a Lad
When I was a Lad
by Bob Moore
I still remember, when I was a lad
the head of the house, was the one we called dad
he’d go off to work, and mam would keep house
look after the kids, be quiet as a mouse
He’d come home when shift ended, and sit in his chair
wasn’t much said, cuppa tea waiting there
mam did all the washing, the cleaning and such
no TV, no internet, not very much
Sometimes, if she had to, a part time job she’d get
selling tickets at Belle Vue, or maybe the Met
or at the Apollo, in Ardwick Green
the Hippodrome too, some stars there, she’d seen
or the Midland Hotel, up on Hyde road
to make a quid, and pay what we owed
us kids didn’t know this, we all just played
and if mam and dad worked, at the neighbours we stayed
we knew all the neighbours, and we would just roam
until the street lights came on, then we’d go home
mam would be waiting, or sometimes it was dad
I remember those times, when I was a lad.
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