Any Old Iron
They say I’m like one of them Wombles: I pick up the stuff everyday folk leave behind.
They say there are no jobs these days but there’s always money to be made.
One man’s rubbish is another man’s treasure.
All you need is a cart and a pair of eyes. It’s a case of knowing where to look.
Lead pipes. Old bikes. Pram wheels.
Washing machine parts. Busted irons. Car tyres. Anything.
Someone gave us a life-sized Buddha once. It weighed a tonne.
I sold it to a bloke in Bacup who had made his fortune in sunbeds. He weren’t even a Buddhist, he just liked the look of it.
I used to have horses then. I used to have two horses. But I lost them in a bet.
Anyway, horses need hay and water and somewhere to graze and who needs the hassle?
I’m a free spirit, me, and I’ll just do it all on my toes now. And then when I turn those toes to the sky our Patrick will take over the business.
I’m the Womble of Wythenshawe, me, wombling free.