The Container Drivers - The Fall

Net cap.

of five eight thousand pounds

They sweat on their way down

Report with customs bastards

Hang around like clowns the

Uh-containers and their drivers

Bad indigestion

The bowel retention

S’before their wages

Sometimes in short sleeves

Look at a car park for two days

Look at a grey port for two days

Train line, stone and grey

This is not their town

Big cigars come out of the ground

Sweat on their way down

F. Jack’s a distant relation

Communists are just part time workers

And there’s no thanks

From the loading bay racks

Look at a car park for two days

Look at a grey port for two days

Train line, stone and grey

RO-RO roll on roll off

The container drivers

It’s before thir wages

Uh-containers

Uh-and their drivers