Were my Gospel accordin' to Marx.

When I'd lossen my job back i' t' eighties,
An were laikin' for well-nigh two year,
Who said that an out-o'-wark fettler
Were costin' his country dear?

Owd England cared nowt about me,
I could clem(2) wi' my barns an' my wife;
Shoo were ower thrang wi' buildin' up t' empire
To build up a brokken life.

"Ivery man for hissen," shoo said,
"An' t' dule can catch what he can;
Labour's cheap an' trade's worth more
Nor t' life of a workin' man."

When t' country were chuff,(3) an' boasted
That t' sun niver set on her flags,
I thowt o' wer back-to-back houses,
Wer childer i' spetches(4) an' rags,

When t' country drave by i' her carriage,
Wi' flunkies afore an' behind,
I left her to bettermy bodies,
An' I gav her a taste o' my mind.

But when shoo were liggin' i' t' gutter,
Wi' a milit'rist mob at her throit,
"Hands off her!" I cried, "shoo's my mother:"