Well my good woman told me,
as she was mopping the floor,
well my good woman told me,
as she was mopping the floor,
you gotta find a new place honey,
I just can't stand this no more.
Well what could I do my friend?
I had no more lives to use,
well what could I do my friend?
I had no more lives to use,
well I got a whole heap of trouble,
and the Welfare Accomodation Blues!
Well the walls and ceiling are thin,
there are squatters in the stairwell,
well the walls and ceiling are thin,
there are squatters in the stairwell,
well I've been thinking 'bout my life,
and how it's become a living hell.
Well they forgot to shuffle the pack,
was I always born to lose?
Well they forgot to shuffle the pack,
was I always born to lose?
well I feel a hard winter coming,
and the Welfare Accomodation Blues!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A refined poetic imagination, Peter Strugnell. You may like to read my poem, Love And Iust. Thank you.