Текст: Barbara Dickson. Blood Brothers. My Child.

MRS LYONS :
Each day I look out from this window
I see him with his friends, I hear him call
I rush down, but as I fold my arms around him
He's gone - was he ever there at all?

I've dreamed of all the places I would take him
The games we'd play, the stories I would tell him
The jokes we'd share, the clothing I would make him
I reach out but as I do he fades away

MRS JOHNSTONE :
If my child was raised in a palace like this one
He wouldn;t have to worry where
His next meal was coming from
His clothing would be
Supplied by George Henry Lee

MRS LYONS :
He'd have all his own toys
And a garden to play in

MRS JOHNSTONE :
He could make too much noise
Without the neighbours complainin'

MRS LYONS :
Silver trays to take meals on

MRS JOHNSTONE :
A bike with both wheels on

MRS LYONS :
And he'd sleep every night
In a bed of his own

MRS JOHNSTONE :
He wouldn't get into fights
He'd leave matches alone
And you'd never find him
Effing and blinding
And when he grew up
He could never be told
To stand and queue up
For hours on end at the dole
He'd grow up to be

MRS JOHNSTONE AND MRS LYONS :
A credit to me

MRS JOHNSTONE :
To You?

MRS LYONS :
Yes

MRS JOHNSTONE :
I would still be able to see him every day, wouldn't I?

MRS LYONS :
Of course

MRS JOHNSTONE :
An', An' you would look after him wouldn't you?

MRS LYONS :
I'd keep him warm in the winter
And cool when it shines
I'll pull out his splinters
Without making him cry
I'd always be there
If his dream became a nightmare

MRS LYONS AND MRS JOHNSTONE :
My child
My child
My child