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.