Like Patrick MacGill’s ‘Children Of The Dead End’ for them it’s uphill all of the way
If they have a God he doesn’t listen when to him for favours they pray.
They live and they die as fringe dwellers the born to be unemployed
And their postal address is against them and lady luck not on their side,
The employers they give them the knockback when for the job start they apply
They say such things as this job doesn’t suit you and thank you and good luck and goodbye.
They remain as the lesser God’s children the people who do not fit in
And they resort to crime for to make ends meet some people are not born to win
To be born in the poorest suburb to their disadvantage the Gods are against them ‘twould seem
And they live and die as the poor slum dwellers the people who don’t dare to dream.
They live as the poorest of people the hungry, oppressed and downtrod
And few wish to know the life story of the Children Of The Lesser God,
Life for them is an uphill battle and they live where there’s social decay
And they go to bed at night hungry and every day a hungry day.

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