I never thought it would happen. With me and the girl from Clapham. Out on a windy common. That night I ain't forgotten. When she dealt out the rations. With some or other passions. I said you are a lady. Perhaps she said I may be. We moved into a basement. With thoughts of our engagement. We stayed in by the telly. Although the room was smelly. We spent our time just kissing. The Railway Arms we're missing. But love had got us hooked up. And all our time it took up. I got a job with Stanley. He said I'd come in handy. And started me on Monday. So I had a bath on Sunday. I worked eleven hours. And bought the girl some flowers. She said she'd seen a doctor. And nothing now could stop her. I worked all through the winter. The weather brass and bitter. I put away a tenner. Each week to make her better. And when the time was ready. We had to sell the telly. Late evenings by the fire. With little kicks inside her. This morning at 4:50. I took her rather nifty. Down to an incubator. Where thirty minutes later. She gave birth to a daughter. Within a year a walker. She looked just like her mother. If there could be another. And now she's two years older. Her mother's with a soldier. She left me when my drinking. Became a proper stinging. The devil came and took me. From bar to street to bookie. No more nights by the telly. No more nights nappies smelling. Alone here in the kitchen. I feel there's something missing. I'd beg for some forgiveness. But begging's not my business. And she won't write a letter. Although I always tell her. And so it's my assumption. I'm really up the junction