Little Voice

Ooh, but them uniforms
are not very becomin'.

You look like you been chucked
in a tool bag, you.

Put me right off,
that has.

And I always liked a man
in a uniform, me.

- Oh, I bet you did.
- Hey, watch it, sparks. Sparkler.

Hey, speakin' of sparks,
you don't know nothin'
about electrickery, do ya?

Only the wires of me home's
cracklin' up on me.

No, no. We're just phone boys, us.
He's quiet, isn't he?
- Is there anybody there?
Or has he been disconnected?

Been cut off?
I've got a daughter like that.

Like one of them answerin' thingies.
You can only leave messages, like.

- Say hi, Bill.
- Hello.
- Bill?

- Hey, you're not the famous
phone Bill, are ya?

Eh, but look at you
in that bag. You ought to complain.

Good-lookin' on top and then that.
- Clark Gable in a bag.
Or should I say "Clark Cable"?

Ooh, eh, look at them two lookin' now.
Hey, this one doesn't speak
neither, love.

You could go out, you two,
for a silent night, holy night.

Or stop at home for a bleeding quiet
night in. Be a real riot, that would.

What did I say?
What did I say?

Eh, look at the red on him now.
Lookie. Oh, dear.

Aye, you see, that's all you get
when she's upset...

crappaty records
full-bloody blast.

Hey, you! Trash the calypso!
Right. We're all done.
- I'll just ring through
and test the line.
- Oh!

Oh, let me do it. Let me. Let me.
What's the number again?
Oh, no. Don't tell me. I remember.

Start of the war,
Bobby Moore.

Thirty-nine, sixty-six
and me age, twenty-eight.