Those Were The Days
Something that you hear
It is a common phrase
Take a look back in time
Because "Those were the days"
When tin baths were used
One washed, who was next?
Hand-me-down clothes
No talk about sex
"Run for the shelter!"
The siren is crying
Hiding in the darkness
Whilst the soldiers are dying
No video players
Hardly ever saw a car
No expensive posh pets
Just a tadpole in a jar
There were marbles and jacks
Porcelain dolls, hopscotch too
A seat in the flea pit
Cost a shilling or two
Mrs Dales Diary on the wireless
Bag of coal for the fire
Squeeze the washing through a mangel
To the laundrette for a washer and dryer
Chicken once a year at Christmas
Plain crisps with a bag of salt
There were steam trains and trams
Kodak box cameras - front doors without bolts
Black polish on hobnailed boots
No GCSE's, for us - eleven plus
Pack of ten woodbines
A conductor on the bus
A guinea or a threpence
Quill pens you dipped in ink
Best clothes on a Whitsun
Pigtails with ribbons of pink
An annual trip to somewhere
It was all we could afford
Bag of chips and some scrumpy
We were happy, never bored
No talk of the ozone layer
We had lots of the sun's rays
Families were big and we were poor
We didn't care because those were the days!
His Life
He was born at 3.30 in the morning
A difficult birth, must be said.
The labour lasted just short of two days
So, he is hungry, and demands to be fed.
Several years have now passed
And he is 5 years old.
His first day at school, it is looming
He's excited, he's brave and he's bold.
And now he is heading to college
He wants to get himself a degree.
And then he'll join the RAF
What an adventure that will be.
He's fighting for his country
Who have got tangled up in a war.
The casualties, they are heavy
He's losing comrades he has known from afar.
His plane is shot down and he's wounded
He awakes in a military bed.
No more flying for him, he's told
He'll have to have a desk job instead.
But that's not for him - not why he joined up
A pilot was all he'd ever be.
He's fighting again now, a personal battle
To get back in a fighter jet, soaring and free.
His persistence, it works, and he's got what he wanted
And a long, worthy career he does have.
He's retiring now to live in the countryside
Enjoying what his comrades died to save.
It's just passed his 85th birthday
And he is so tired right now.
His life's had its ups and down - he'd agree
But, he's got this far into it, somehow.
They said that he died whilst he was asleep
So peaceful, just as he had yearned.
They buried him alongside his Mum
And he was wearing the medals he'd earned.
