down main street I sprinted, sweating

running blindly, just as fast as I could

clutching that angel cake to my chest

preparing to defend it with my blood

 

in those days before CCTV it was easy

I distracted the assistant and pounced

lately you enter a shop and at once

your whole life story gets announced

 

olden days were best, we were free,

kids could safely walk down a street

the air was clean, food was natural

now you dont know what you eat

 

the roads were free of traffic jams

neighbours all talked to each other

these days we've been so atomised

children barely talk to their mother

 

but the Fifties had their down-side

smog and rationing were in force

yet everywhere was less crowded

you still saw the occasional horse

 

it went downhill with Harold Wilson

people no longer knew their place

expectations rose like sun-flowers

the Sixties spawned a greedy race

 

got home at last with my angel cake

my mam said to go and get washed

ripping open the cellophane, sadly

my angel cake had got squashed