Bossman

I'm in the toilets of a shit old club

While all of these other boys are taking drugs

I'm talking with Bossman about love and loss and

Where life goes wrong

'Cause he works all night just to take home a wage

Selling chewing gums and lollypops and cheap aftershaves

To the boys in Huaraches sniffing cocaine off car keys

All night long

And I say, "Mate, don't you ever get

Sick of the sight of the drunken fights

And the smell of shit, sick, and piss?

There's got to be more to life than this"

And he said, "Son, I've got no riches to boast

But see, in luck and love, I swear I'm richer than most

I've got a wife and two kids

There's so much more to my life than this

So no spray, no lay, no splash, no gash

Cheap aftershaves in exchange for cash

I'm not making a killing, bruv

But I'm making a living and that's enough"

I'm on my way home in the backseat of a cab

And I'm talking with Bossman while I eat my kebab

I'll ask him if he's been busy, what time he gets off and is he

From 'round this way

'Cause he works all night on a twelve-hour shift

With the gypsy teens and the beauty queens and the lads on the piss

They've had a couple of shandies mixed with Charlie and Mandy

Every weekend's the same

And I say, "Mate, don't you ever get

Sick of abuse from the drunken youths

Leaning out your window being sick

There's got to be more to life than this"

And he said, "Son, I've got no riches, you see

But my son's at school and education ain't free

He'll be a doctor someday

If he wants a future, we've got to pay

So I'll drive all night with these drunken kids

Who need to stop to get cash or need to stop for a piss

I'm not making a killing, bruv

But I'm making a living and that's enough"

I'm at the counter of my local shop

Where Bossman's been working since we were kids in the blocks

Every Saturday night he would serve me with my fake ID

When I was fifteen years old

And he's still there now before I go to bed

And in the morning with the papers, a pint of milk, and the loaf of bread

He sleeps and he showers, then works another twenty four hours

You see it taking its toll

And I say, "Mate, don't you ever get

Sick of this place stacking shelves every day?

Come on, bruv, you've got to admit

There's got to be more to life than this"

And he said, "Son, I'm barely making ends meet

But there's a war back home and people die in the street

So I thank God every day

That me and my family have got away

So I'll spend my life in this shop, but it's sweet

'Cause I don't fight to survive and I don't fight just to eat

And I'm not making a killing, bruv

But I'm alive and I'm living and that's enough"