Copied from http://www.20th.org.uk/gangshow/GS2004%20-%20Fings.pdf

FINGS AIN'T WOT THEY USED TO BE

They've changed our local palais
Into a bowling alley,
And fings ain't wot they used t' be.
There's teds wiv drain-pipe trousers,
And debs in coffee houses,
And fings ain't wot they used to be.

It used t' be fun,
Dad and old Mum
Paddling down Southend,
But now it ain't done.
Never mind, chum,
Paris is where we spend our outings!

Grandma tries to shock us all,
Doing knees up rock 'n' roll.
Fings ain't wot they used t' be.
Monkeys flying round the moon,
We'll be up there wiv 'em soon.
Fings ain't wot they used t' be.

Once our beer was froffy,
But now it's froffy coffee!
No! Fings ain't wot they used t' be.
There used t' be trams,
Not very quick,
Got you from place to place;
But now there's just jams,
Half a mile thick.
Stay in, human race;
I'm walking!

They've stuck parking meters
Outside our doors to greet us.
No, Fings ain't wot they used t'
Did the lot, we used t',
Fings ain't wot they used t' be.