Monday, November 24, 2014

White Van Man

White Van Man

Long will I remember when, 
I met by chance the strangest men.
Tattooed chests and shaven heads,
And England flags above their beds.

Their homes had room to park a van,
As symbols of the common Man.
And those who thought that they were slobs,
Were soon exposed as awful snobs.

For when we judge on what we see,
And boast that they are not as we.
We say that we are always right,
And White Van Man's a vulgar blight.

But in God's eyes we're all the same,
Eschew the praise, avoid the blame.
My way is mine, and yours is yours,
No more judging - nor class wars.

Paddy Briggs


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