III

The factory calls me now to work
But my appointment's at the kirk

The vineyard culls such tender grapes
But mine's the mouth that always gapes

The brewer gives such dulcet hops
But ne'er before my house he stops

The factory workers must not shirk
The orders of the man who rapes
The orders of the girl who shops

And with each lump dropped each reprieve
Where only meagre boys all thieve

The Borstal warden keeps his eye
Quite firmly fixed on all who spy

And round about the dock there creeps
The foreman's son who never sleeps

His lawyer has been given leave
To poke and prod and purely pry
The dangerous and darkling deeps

O DEATH I SHUN YOUR WARM EMBRACE
As now the sunlight shuns my face