Little Voice

What are you laughin' at?
Music ringin'
in my bloody ears.

Hello, me.
Stupid, isn't it?
Cooped up there in the dark
all day, like a friggin' bird
trapped in the rafters.

Hey, steady on.
Billy's fond of his birds.

Ah, well, I didn't think he looked
like the shirt-liftin' type somehow.

No, feathered variety...
pigeons and that.

Oh, frig me, no!

I can't be doin' with that.
All that cooin' and flappin'
and shittin' all over shop.
They want shootin', them.

The only good pigeons
are in pies.

Right. If you could
just sign this, Mrs., er...

Hoff. Mari Hoff.
Crappaty name, isn't it?

Me late husband Frank left it me.
You can imagine me feelin's
on signin' marriage register...
Mr. And Mrs. F. Hoff.

See ya.
Thanks very much,
Mr. Cable.

See ya, then.
What's it like then, eh?
To watch your master at work.

Did you not see her?
Legs of jelly she had for me.

Husband dead and
out the way and all, eh?

Oh, bloody hell. Here's me imaginin'
all sorts of slap and tickle,

and all you can dream about
is bloody Duane.