I am just a loader on the household refuse round
I have wandered up the side streets,
Shifting hundreds of containers, mostly wheelie bins
Residual waste,
If it’s in the bin I’ll shift it and leave the rest in place

When I left my home this morning it was barely five AM
In the company of milkmen
On the way out to the depot, running late
Six-o-three,
Seeking out the break room corner, hope the supervisor don’t see
Scoffing bacon butties and a cup of tea
Lie-la-lie...

Asking only a council pension I went looking for a job
But I got no TUPE
Just a zero hours contract from the agency
I do declare
The days get so cold I’m glad
I just do cover shifts there
La la la la lie la lie

Now the bins are hydraulically lifted and they wheel quite easily
This job is easier than it once was
With greater productivity, business as usual
There’s frequent change
But after service rearrangements the job stays more or less the same
After changes, loading’s more or less the same

But I’m standing in my winter clothes
And wishing I was dry in the cab
Where the waste collection winters wouldn’t bother me
Freezing me... brass monkeys

One day I’ll get my licence and start driving as my trade
And write down the registrations
Of every berk that slows me down
Or cuts me up while driving
In my Dennis RCV
Find out their addresses, and leave their bins unemptied
Lie-la-lie...