In Victorian Times,
The living was hard.
In a two up, two down,
With a tiny backyard.
Children were working,
Sixteen hours in the mill.
And still had to work,
Even when feeling ill.
Climbing through machinery,
In dangerous conditions.
Loosing fingers or limbs,
With the help of Physicians.
Young girls, young as twelve,
Were put on the street.
And sold to old men,
Like pieces of meat.
Whilst the gentry were feeding,
On roast pheasant and wine,
The working class people,
Were still towing the line.
People caught stealing,
A small crumb of bread,
Were sent to the prison,
Or the America’s instead.
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