Others, at the peak of their career
Have a portrait hung in the boardroom,
Not a mug shot on "Ten Most Wanted".
Over a pint of Marston's Pride,
He is so very tired of co-worker's shooting at him, paid vacations only at "Her Majesty's Pleasure", and no pat on the Back for a job well done.
Too old for Government re-training
(Where the pay is shite)
There still is the one-armed bandit to feed,
And those safe houses to keep.
The Best-Bank-Robber reflects;
"Back in my day at Borstal, skills such as
Internet transfer, hacking, and identity fraud,
They were as distant as those CCTV cameras
Now squatting on every corner."
Creaking in his chair, Stan-The-Safe-Cracker sighs,
"'Tis the poxy forensics, DNA, that's destroying the livelihood,"
"They wouldn't dare if we wuz Unionised."
Raising a glass, they ponder in gloom
As to How It's All Gone So To Pot.
Finally, bell ringing, Bruiser-The-Barman
Signals last orders to drain up their ale.
Out in the cold night air, as they part until the next, Stan-The-Safe-Cracker Brightens, turning to deliver a reassuring back-Slap.
"Well man, at least your young Colin is making a mark?"
The-Best-Bank-Robber tries hard not to crow. Swallowing a lump of paternal Pride, shoulders squared, he smiles.
"Aye, sure enough, so his dear Ma tells me.. yeah, he's only out and running His very own crack-den now, ain't he?"