The Man Who Couldn’t Turn Left

 

He couldn’t turn left

He couldn’t turn left

He was nimble and deft

But he couldn’t turn left

He was just the man who couldn’t turn left

 

A coffin maker

Picket line breaker

To fly the world with Freddie Laker

With his greasy clock-card out of sight

Turned 270 degrees to the right

And scabbing is theft

But not for the man who couldn’t turn left

 

He couldn’t turn left

He couldn’t turn left

He was nimble and deft

And scabbing is theft

But he couldn’t turn left

He was just the man who couldn’t turn left

 

He’d tolerate the boos and hisses

With fantasies of clandestine kisses

While the contract manager shagged his missus

Which left him bereft

But he couldn’t turn left

He was nimble and deft

And scabbing is theft

But he couldn’t turn left  

Don’t pity the man who couldn’t turn left