The Factory Hands lament.

I wish was a salesman
instead of a factory hand,
I'd drive a Ford Mondeo
and life wouldn't half be grand.

I'd zoom around from place to place,
flogging stuff at a furious pace;
I'd have a stylish bird, a real smart home,
a designer desk and a mobile phone.

Oh I wish I was a salesman
instead of a factory hand,
with a rickety old bike, a sandwich box,
warm beer and allotment land.

Oh I wish I was a salesman
for all the world to see.
Just a super, brilliant salesman
is all I long to be.

The Saleman's Lament

I wish I was a factory hand,
top worker I would be,
clocking in at half past eight,
then home in time for tea.

I'd pull those levers, make those toys,
no more pressure, just one of the boys.
Skive when I could, call out a strike,
then trundle off home on me rusty old bike.

Oh I wish I was a worker,
what a lovely, lovely life.
Just bingo, beer and baccy
and Fridays with the wife.

Oh I wish I was a worker,
with a life quite worry free;
just a happy, busy bee worker
Is all I long to be.