I've come down from Barnsley to Hampstead for the day
Just to see if Father and Mother are okay
Mother in her apron and Father in his vest
Dressed just like they were the very day I left
Father is sarcastic, he sniffs about my suit
Mother asks how work's going, is the mining good?
Tungsten carbon drill-heads really cut the rock
"Tungsten carbon drills?" says Dad, "That's bloody fancy talk!"
Mother says it's stress, Father's having a hard day
Tomorrow the National Theatre's premiering his new play
But when I say "Oh, that's good!" Father flies into a fit
"Good?" he pouts, "That's good? What do you know about it?"
"What do you know about having to drag yourself up at 5 o'clock
To fly to Paris for TV and press interviews then hurry back
To the Old Vic at 12 for drinks then having to write three acts
About a gay nymphomaniac drug-addict who murders a Scottish footballer with an axe?"
"There's more to life than culture, Father there is sweat
Coal-mining is wonderful, though you'll never understand it
Look what you've done to Mother, she's worn her hands to the bone
Attending premieres and meeting film-stars and giving gala luncheons!"
"There's nowt wrong with gala luncheons, son!" my father shrieks
Then clutches at his wrist and sinks to his knees
Mother says it's writer's cramp, I'd better be away
But Father says "Hang on, Mother, here's the germ of a play!"