‘Are there any English here?’ a woman shouts to market day shoppers
 in Peel Square before joining
 a bewhiskered chap holding
 large 7 up bottle perfumed with ale.

 Me garden were best on street,
 gorgeous Azaleas, Petunias, Roses.
 Started disappearing. Spotted immigrants across road in rented. Challenged them.

 “You English think
 you own everything!”
 they told us.

 Thirty years down
 mines to get this, cock.
 Thirty bleeding years.
 I own me house, cock.

 “You English think
 you own everything”

 Abroad for a better life
 Abroad for an easier life
 Abroad where we are worth more
 Proud of who we are.

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