Hostel Strike Songtext
von The Young’uns

Well, the cook was a crook and the manager a miser
Both were shirkers, both were skirters
Both were bad workers and skivers
And the butties were disgusting and the soup was getting thinner
And all we got for breakfast each was half a soggy kipper
And the sheets weren′t changed, the smell was something funny
When we worked overtime the buggers took half of our money
I was a proud young working lad but treated like a convict
Feeling bold, fifteen years old, I wasn't gonna stand it

We were waiting for a better day!

Well, in the North we were poor, but we were poor together
When you see the lights of London then you know you should have better
So when queuing for our bait boxes one cold and rainy morning
I said, "Stuff your bloody butties, they always taste appalling!"
But the cook ran amok, he flung himself towards me
He was cursing, he was swearing, every dirty name he called me
Though I didn′t know what striking was, I was no better
I said, "I'll not go to work today 'til things out here are better!"


We were waiting for a better day, boys
Waiting for a better day

So all the lads filed out the door and though the ground was sodden
For three long nights we all slept rough about and warmed with common
′Til our pockets were all empty and the thought that we were giving
But we held our nerve, our reserve, and fought for our living

On Trinity Road there was a little cafe
Where the busmen went for tea and toast and coffee
And when they heard our story with us they were really taken
They gave all the lads tea and toast, gave ′em eggs and bacon

We were waiting for a better day, boys
Waiting for a better day

Well, they asked us lots of questions
And they heard each of our stories
They got all our facts and figures
Straight and laid the case before me

But the police came, arrested me, the trouble it was starting
But the lads entered the cafe and the busmen came a-marching


Those busmen spoke with splendid oratory
While the manager and cook each told a different story
It was as plain as rain they were a pair of rotten scammers
They were sacked outright without a
Fight and now they're in the slammer

We were waiting for a better day, boys
Waiting for a better day

As the manager was hauled away he snarled and pointed at me
He said, "There′s a bloody Bolshevik, there's the rotten commie!"
Now I never heard of either word so I just stood there smirking
Gave a sigh and went inside, just glad that I was working

And to thank those busmen us lads were all contriving
We bought them each a tie, all bright and red and shining

Now I did not know politics, a leader I was not it
But now I knew what union meant and I never forgot it

We were waiting for a better day, boys
Waiting for a better day

We were waiting for a better day
At the YMCA!