Any money in writing? <br />No? Then you bloody starve. <br />Me, I’m a run a Cafe mate_ <br />I’m a always eat. <br />A bloody good cafe <br />famous people come here: <br />Ivan Lendl, Anna Kournikova... Red Symons. <br /> <br />You marry? _No? <br />‘Ow you gonna get marry <br />witha you ‘ead down <br />ona piece a paper? <br /> <br />If topless sheila walk by <br />you miss her_ <br />you looka down <br />ona you bloody piece a paper! <br /> <br />I tella you what mate <br />you don’t a know love. <br />You ‘ave the self-love: narcilepsy <br /> <br />anda you ‘ave the self-absorption <br />like a bloody Chux a super wipe <br />but you don’t a know love <br />‘til you getta you ‘ead <br />outa you bloody bum. <br /> <br />You a sad, you write about <br />the un’appy, ‘cos you a sad. <br /> <br />You gotta be like me mate: <br />I work, I gotta ‘ouse <br />I gotta missus, I gotta bambino <br />I gotta my ‘ealth_I got ‘appy_ <br /> <br />amore di vita, <br />love of life mate. <br /> <br />That’s amore.<br /><br />Pete Dowe<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/you-marry/
