Back When the World Was Ours – Original Song | 1960s Peckham, British Nostalgia & Pub Banter

Описание: Back When the World Was Ours – Original Song | 1960s Peckham, British Nostalgia & Pub Banter
🏡 “We had far less… and somehow more know-how.”

Set to the smoky rhythm of memory and mischief, this song takes you back to when communities raised children, teachers raised eyebrows, and the bobby knew exactly who your mum was. “Back When the World Was Ours” is a love letter — with bite — to the real Britain: cracked pavements, jukebox wars, pork scratchings, and pride that didn’t need polishing.

🎶 If you grew up chasing a football through dog muck, arguing over jukebox picks, or getting lovingly told off by a slipper-wielding elder — this is your anthem.

WHAT THIS SONG IS ABOUT:
• 1960s Peckham streets and honest childhoods
• Lost traditions, pub culture, and real community
• A cheeky-but-heartfelt commentary on modern “progress”
• Laughs, moans, grit — and a pint full of truth

🎵 For Fans Of:
working-class storytelling, nostalgic acoustic songwriting, social commentary in song

✅ Like | 💬 Comment | 🔔 Subscribe for more music rooted in memory, mischief, and meaning.
📤 Share this if you remember when teachers had slippers, not mindfulness apps.

🗣️ YOUR TURN:
What’s something you miss from “the way things were”? Drop it in the comments — best one gets featured in the next lyric.

#BackWhenTheWorldWasOurs #BritishNostalgia #Peckham1960s #PubSongs #OldSchoolBanter #UKStorytelling #RealLifeMusic #LostCommunity #WokeCultureCommentary



Back When the World Was Ours

[Spoken Intro]They say the past is a foreign land—Well, mine had cracked pavements, corner shops,And mates who’d dare you to run through the rainJust to dodge the bobby and pinch a Wagon Wheel.Not perfect. But it felt real.

[Verse 1 ]
I grew up in Peckham, mid-sixties gold,
Where the winters bit hard and the summers felt bold.
We built empires out of junk and string,
And ruled the dump like we were kings.
A muddy pitch, a leather case ball,
And swearin’ you'd make it for England by fall.
No phones, no tweets—just boots and pride,
And a gang of mates you’d fight beside.

[Chorus]
Now I’m living by the sea, where the sea still sighs,
But the warmth we knew is in disguise.
The pub’s got apps and artisan gin,
But no-one knows where the laughs begin.
Give me darts, pork scratchings, jukebox fights—
Back when the world was ours at night.

[Verse 2 ]
Teachers back then had chalk and command,
A raised eyebrow could still reprimand.
You'd get a slipper, not a safe space form—
Yet somehow, we all made it through the storm.
The copper knew your dad and your name,
Caught you nicking sweets, then walked you home in shame.
Now it’s faceless rules and blinking lights,
With no one left to wrong the rights.

[Chorus]
Now I’m anchored by the shore, watching time go grey,
While memories shout what we won’t say.
They've paved the soul with polished gloss,
But something real got lost in the loss.
I miss the mess, the bruise, the bite—
Back when the world was ours at night.

[Bridge]
We didn’t have much, but we had it all—
A battered old telly, and the pub down the hall.
We played till dark, we made up games,
And laughed so hard we forgot our names.
Now it’s curated zones with corporate flair,
Where nothing’s wrong but no one cares.
Progress came—but at what cost?'
Cause somewhere along the line, we lost...

[Verse 3]
...The butcher, the baker, the gossip chain,
The nosy neighbour who moaned when it rained.
Now it’s all click, collect, and go—
But nobody asks how your mum’s elbow.

[Final Chorus)
So raise a glass to the way things were,
To shouting down the pub without a slur.
To Saturdays spent in second-hand boots,
To falling in love to Motown loops.
Trade your screens for truth and scars—
Back when the world was ours... and ours.

Outro –
Now the kids run free, with their hashtags and rage,
Cancelling jokes like they’re cleansing the stage.
They’ve got pronouns and platforms, they tweet with might—
But can’t change a fuse or win a pub fight.
I’m not saying we were saints in our day,
But we learned respect the old-school way.
So here’s to the grit, the charm, the row—
We had far less... and somehow more know-how.