The bedrooms cold and I can’t find the cat
My husband’s done a runner he’s a rat
I wanted to make love he wanted rest
I know the truth he didn’t like my vest
We can’t afford to heat the bedroom more
And anyway we can’t lock any door
Martin Lewis money expert grant us aid
Or I’ll go on the street where I’ll get paid
The furtive men in cars won’t see my vest
All in all I think that is the best
The government intend us to be whores.
When they stop our benefits
And much much more
