I was born in a Suffolk barnyard with the dung on my mother’s feet
Raised in a world of work but Sundays we got meat
Daddy said I had to learn a trade but I never got on with a saw
Every day in the joinery I dreamed of something more
Apoplexy – will be the death of me
Chemistry was the coming thing – that’s a thing I learned at school
I went to see the druggist, asked if I could learn it too
He held my hand in a Bunsen flame to see if I would flinch
That’s where I got my code in life: never give an inch
Apoplexy – will be the death of me
Every job I ever had left me poorer than before
You count one, two, three, four – that’s me that’s walking out the door
The more I see of the world’s work the less I understand
This apoplectic ecstasy is the last card in my hand
I got married way too young – that’s the way it used to be
Took a train to London and made a family
The streets were full of smoke and the house was full of kids
Getting us out of Lambeth was the best I ever did
Apoplexy – will be the death of me
Canada West was calling me so we sailed the ocean wide
We lived there with the bugs and bears and the Quebecois besides
Sold elixirs and patent pills to the trappers and the logging men
No-one had much money so we came back home again
Apoplexy – will be the death of me
Now we’re back in London and a house in New Cross Gate
I travel on the omnibus at the worker’s tupenny rate
I watch the river flowing by till it makes my heart explode
Then I go back down to sell sarsasparilla on the Walworth Road
Apoplexy – will be the death of me
© MarkGSongs 2011
