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A TOUCH OF CLASS Dr. Feelgood 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


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