From: Daibhid Cheinnedelh 
Newsgroups: alt.fan.pratchett
Subject: [I} Filks
Date: Wed, 06 Sep 2000 15:38:31 GMT


I wrote this one because I couldn't believe no-one else had...


Cable Street
(with apologies to Gerry Rafferty)


(*The* sax solo)


Work from a warehouse in Cable Street
Helping the people who've got to eat
Well like you always say, that really don't pay
And it's your own throat you're cutting
This city always seems so cold
That's why so many people buy a sausage roll
And it takes them so long, to find out they were wrong
But it's your own throat you're cutting


You only sell them if there's no option
Another scam is always your option
But you're frying, you're frying now


A guarantee will keep the marks happy
If they'd believe it then they'd be happy
But there spying, you're lying now


(Sax again [I'll have a P, please, Bob.])


Be warned, I will be devoting tomorrow to finding out why the disc won't 
load. Then you get the rest.




Dave, who probably needs filk-obsession therapy