I haven’t got a thing to wear
To the hunt ball in June and
Drinks at the Hamiltons
Toby’s book launch, such a dear, and
Ascot darling, Henley too
Then that charity bash at the Majors
Damien’s private view
Stella’s launch and Simon’s too
I really don’t know what to do
I haven’t got a thing to wear
I haven’t got a thing to wear
To keep the rain from off me head
Or the wind blown dust from out me face
To keep meself from freezing and cryin’
Or burning and dyin’
Of thirst or hunger or rage
Nor have me children clothing
Nothing on their bleeding feet
But rags that no-one here could spare
I haven’t got a thing to wear
© David Hermelin 2016
