When we were thirteen - Or maybe fourteen
We all had paper rounds - Me and Lee Henson
And Michael Courtney – In Trimmer's Newsagents
With Mr Trimmer – Who was a misery
We used to laugh behind his back - When he got cross with us because
We'd pushed a paper through the letterbox - Next door to where it should have gone
And some bloke rang up to complain - Because he hadn't had the Sun
To read at breakfast time and fill - his mind with utter sh**e before
He had to leave the house - So that he could get himself in to work on time
Old Mister Trimmer – What a misery
He didn't pay us much – He made us work hard
He never cracked a smile - nor did his Mrs
So they seemed suited – To each other
We would wait in the back room - For the newspapers to arrive
And we'd pinch chocolate from his stock - When he went in the front to serve
And on the evening we would climb - Over his garden wall and lie
Down in the bushes and observe - His feet and Mrs Trimmer's feet
Because the curtains on his French windows -Dint quite reach all the way down to the floor
Why did we do that? - It used to make us laugh
But it was innocent – just like we were
We thought the other kids – All had girlfriends
And we had no-one – So we watched Trimmer
Then one day he started being kind - He gave us all a pay rise and
He even gave us chocolate - So we didn't have to pinch it
And then Shortly after that - Old Trimmer died and went to heaven
So his Mrs Closed the shop and - Me, Lee Henson and Mike Courtney
Found ourselves without a job - And so we had to find new paper rounds elsewhere.