He's never been late to work
No, not a single time
And he consider that people on the dole
Is committing a crime

And he say, -if you don't work
Then you shouldn't eat
And he consider him self as perfect
But he's just full of shit

He's living inside a dream and there's no way out

Every Friday he goes down to the trotting Corse
To try his luck
He is dreaming of a million pound
But I don't think he'd survive the shock, no

He just lose all his money
Every time it's the same
And then he start to drink again
To forget his pain

Or is he living in a nightmare
Sometimes it can be hard to tell

Yes, he loves his wife
In his own special way
'Cause she cook and washes his clothes
Every single day

And he takes her for granted
As he always has done
But when he is at work
She invite the postman to have some fun