Poetry

This useful source is a contemporary poem which points out how the high wages paid to oil workers didn't always mean that the workers' families enjoyed a high standard of living. The writer's tongue-in-cheek comments highlight the simple fact that many oil workers spent a large part of each year working away from home in a hostile environment and it was all too easy for some workers to spend a large part of their wages before they came home on leave.

Where has all the money gone?
by Geof Dawson

I've worked offshore for years and years,

I must have earned a mint,

so where has all the money gone?

Why are we still skint?

I only spend a bob or two,

when I come offshore.

A man must have some interests,

or life is just a bore.

I contribute to the sick fund,

they take it out my pay,

and I'm going to be grateful,

if ever I'm ill some day.

They're having a collection,

for a bloke I never knew,

but I ought to put a fiver in,

It's the decent thing to do.

Saturday night is bingo night,

to resist is very hard,

the snowball's worth a hundred quid,

and it's only a pound a card.

If you're ringing up the bookie,

can you put on one for me,

In the two-fifteen at Doncaster ?

I fancy number three.

When I joined the card school,

I may have been somewhat rash,

I thought it would pass away the time,

Not take away my cash.

When I get home on Tuesday

I suppose it'll be just the same,

she'll be moaning she's got no money,

but she's the one to blame.

While I'm out there a-grafting,

she's spending all the time,

on food and clothes and stupid things,

it really is a crime.

She should go out and get a job,

and try working for her money,

and then, perhaps she'd realise,

life isn't all milk and honey.