Gradely Owdam folk are gooin’, an’ it’s mekin’ mi feel reight sick, Folk oo’d allus ‘elp one another, through the thin and thick. An’ care fur th’owd neighbours onytime, when as thi wer badly. But now they’ll not do owt fur nowt an’ nowt fur no one, sadly! Aye th’owd spirit’s deein! Can it return? Thur seems to be sum doubt, It seems t’me it’s far too late, it’s all gone reight up t’spout! Thi’ve got no brains, got too much brass and not a jot o’compashun, Thi all think as thi shud be, ‘uppaa claass’. Aye, but ony after a fashun! Thur lives are all about ME, ME and ME! ME an’ ‘ow gud am I? Well I tell yu now, it’s all a load of tosh, it’s all a load of mi eye! Ah don’t want t’go back t’t’poor owd days, them days o’ poverty an’ dread, Ah’d just like t’see back them kindly folk, as wer all reet gradely bred!!