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The Hussle, The Bussle
The hussle, the bussle
The faces of people unknown
Well unknown to me that is
Pass me by to where ever they go
So push your bike and your pram
And hold on to your change
Don’t let go of your bairn
And head for your bus
That’s right fuck-off
And don’t be annoying me
I have problems of my own
I forget to think
That you may have troubles of your own
So what would the answer be
Should we sit down and have a pint
And exchange your stories of trouble and woe
Have you a family tall and proud
Who respect and cherish one and all
Or are they selfish and shits like me
Who only care about their core
I have stopped and though for a moment
And cared for my fellow man
But I suddenly realise
That it's a moment too short
As you stand on my pride and pass me by
Simply not
caring whether I live or die.
James
Watson
© 1997
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