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Spiv: I was born a slum gutter infantile, 
Brute-force educated, delinquent juvenile. 
I am a product of mass produced factory fodder, 
Streets full of tenement blocks, rat infested filth and squalor. 
I left school, went straight on the dole 
And unemployment's no enjoyment, 
Welfare State owned my mind and my body and my soul. 
So I worked my way up to be a second-hand car spiv, 
But don't judge me harshly because I'm just a slum kid. 
I built up my business with a quick wit and fist, 
So don't double-cross me or my hoods will dissect you 
With their black jacks and shiv. 
Slum kids never get a break, they've got to fight their way up. 
Wheel and deal, beg and steal, 
Sweat blood to earn a buck. 
I didn't want to work on the factory floor, 
I wasn't content, I wanted more 
Than to be a slave of a lathe, 
Work all day and go home bored. 
So a second- hand car spiv was what I became. 
I built an empire because I used my brains. 

Chorus: He was a second-hand car spiv up from the slums, 
So don't judge him harshly because he's just a slum kid. 
Then he moved into property, stocks and shares, 

Spiv: And into high finance and you've got to agree 
That running a multi-million corporation 
Sure beats selling cars second-hand. 

Chorus: Once he sold old worn out heaps to the punters on the street, 

Spiv: Now I'm in control of the country as a whole, 
And the world is at my feet. 

Chorus: The world is at his feet. 

Spiv: Power, power, I've got power oozing out of me, 
And when you think of all the things I've done 
It says a lot for one 
Who worked his way up from the streets. 
Yes I'm a second-hand car spiv. 
Do a deal, buy and sell, 
It's my trade, I know it well. 
Make a sale, ring the bell 
And let the suckers go to hell. 
Bank the profits, count the change 
Another sucker comes your way. 
Life is a crooked game, 
And slum kids never change.