Deceives the Eye

In the earliest days of my shoplifting career
You could safely say I was filled with fear
It was nail bitting work from the very start
But several quick successes soon gave me heart

After a while I could pick or nick with ease
Some shirts, some trousers and a few LPs
No one ever stopped me, they didn't seem to care
It sometimes seemed to me that there was no one there

Then a fine summers day my mates and me
Set off down the West End on our usual spree
Things were as normal for an hour or so
Then my nimble hands were a bit too slow

Two store detectives made a fast approach
One grabbed my jacket (you're nicked ha ha), the other grabbed my throat
So they caught me at last, one said with joy
"You'll have to do some time, my light fingered boy"

If only I'd remembered my common sense
They captured me red-handed with evidence
If I go to the manager and say, I'm sorry
Maybe he'll forgive me for my youthful folly

But what what will me social worker say
If-if I don't come home today
He'll give me a clout
What if they don't let me out
I-I told him I'm on me own
Don't they understand?
I'm from a broken home!

I'll tell them I'm the product of a broken home
And I always went out on my own
Was it too late to say I'd pay
And I'll never steal again 'till the end of my days

Because I have no friends to call as such
Money and possessions, I did not have much
So I started to steal in order to get by
The quickness of the hand deceives the eye
Deceives the eye, the eye, the eye...