(mark hankins/chris bradford)



Poor boy, up west, and the action wasn't going my way

Rich girl, best dressed, lookin' like she come out to play

I stood back, you swept passed, i decided that i'd give it a shot

I stepped in, i moved fast, i thought i'd give it everything that i'd got



We take tea at the ritz, i take you down to the docks

You can rely on me to lower the tone

You call me your bit of rough, i call you my bit of stuff

You ain't brass, you're a touch of class



I like a pint, you like your bubbles

We have a whip round when you order your drink

You're in who's who, i'm whose in trouble

You're upper class and i'm the missing link



You got a bun(?) in your mouth and too much time on your hands

I got an accent, you can cut with a knife

Your dad's a bit of a snob but mine's a terminal slob

You ain't brass, you're a touch of class



We go dutch, it ain't much

I knew a classy girl like you wouldn't mind

A bit rough, a bit tough, a bit of low life knocks that perfect punch



- guitar solo -



You got a race horse at home, you keep him down on the farm

I buy the sporting life to studying the odds

I got a feel for the streets, you got your country retreat

You ain't brass, you're a touch of class

You ain't brass, you're a touch of class

You ain't brass

Huh, you're a touch of class