Spiv: I was born a slum gutter infantile, Brute-force educated, delinquent juvenile. I am a product of mass produced factory fodder, Streets full of tenement blocks, rat infested filth and squalor. I left school, went straight on the dole And unemployment's no enjoyment, Welfare State owned my mind and my body and my soul. So I worked my way up to be a second-hand car spiv, But don't judge me harshly because I'm just a slum kid. I built up my business with a quick wit and fist, So don't double-cross me or my hoods will dissect you With their black jacks and shiv. Slum kids never get a break, they've got to fight their way up. Wheel and deal, beg and steal, Sweat blood to earn a buck. I didn't want to work on the factory floor, I wasn't content, I wanted more Than to be a slave of a lathe, Work all day and go home bored. So a second- hand car spiv was what I became. I built an empire because I used my brains.
Chorus: He was a second-hand car spiv up from the slums, So don't judge him harshly because he's just a slum kid. Then he moved into property, stocks and shares,
Spiv: And into high finance and you've got to agree That running a multi-million corporation Sure beats selling cars second-hand.
Chorus: Once he sold old worn out heaps to the punters on the street,
Spiv: Now I'm in control of the country as a whole, And the world is at my feet.
Chorus: The world is at his feet.
Spiv: Power, power, I've got power oozing out of me, And when you think of all the things I've done It says a lot for one Who worked his way up from the streets. Yes I'm a second-hand car spiv. Do a deal, buy and sell, It's my trade, I know it well. Make a sale, ring the bell And let the suckers go to hell. Bank the profits, count the change Another sucker comes your way. Life is a crooked game, And slum kids never change.