Fings Aint Wot They Used To Be

As I walked home from Wembley Park
I met a dog who didn’t bark.
He didn’t sit and whine or beg;
he didn’t try to bite my leg.
This creature, scarcely dog at all,
refused point blank to chase a ball.
The world is mouldy at its heart
when even dogs won’t play their part!

Last night’s TV was full of crap;
the night before, so too was that!
“Celebrities”, game shows and Top Gear,
Reality . . . Get Me Out of Here!
With nothing worth a pee to see,
I’d go to jail for the licence fee,
but sadly now I get it free.
Nothing is like it used to be.

Down at the pub the beer tastes thin,
the music’s canned, the news is grim.
Some yobs get pissed and start to shout
and throw their food and drink about.
The barman’s seen it all before,
he’s watching TV for a football score.
I’m 83, but it’s not just me,
nothing is like it used to be.

Now dogs are led, and I have to say
you rarely come across a stray.
The sport and drama on TV
look so much sharper in HD,
while down the pub though smokers moan,
breathing is easy: it’s a smoke free zone.
So what? That’s just my point you see,
nothing is like it used to be!