Oh, I wish I'd looked after me feet
But the young have this need to compete,
So when fashion beckoned
Well, comfort came second,
I wish I'd looked after me feet.

Those ridiculous shoes that I chose
Rubbed heels and squashed up all me toes,
My Mother would sigh
As she watched me limp by,
You'll regret it' she'd say wearing those.'

I wish I could turn back the clock
I'd not give me feet such a shock,
Oh, the corns I have cursed
And the blisters I've burst,
I wish I could turn back the clock.

Now I sit in the old rocking chair
And gaze at me feet in despair,
My dear Mother was right
They're a pitiful sight,
And in need of some specialist care.

So I hobble along down the street
To give these old trotters a treat,
My chiropodist's nice
But she comes at a price
Oh, I wish I'd looked after me feet.