Dr. Feelgood A Touch of Class Lyrics:
(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
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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
Lyrics: A Touch of Class, Dr. Feelgood [end]