Harry Goldthorpe

Bradford bad lad
He's ripping up the room at the top
Tubthumping have-not
Never kept his gob shut
Taking on the pal's batallion
Who shove us to the bottom
Give us nowt but trouble
'Here's a pittance for your silence'
Where did the chickens go?
Must've been a thousand now
Why did they cross the road?
To get to them that needs 'em on the other side!

Bradford bad lad
Never kept his gob shut
Why should we always go without?
When they have much and we have nowt?
There are cracks and loopholes ten feet wide
So load up t'van and we'll eat tonight!
These bloody fools in the chicken run
Punch 'em on the nose and have done!