The Jogger’s Song by Roger McGough

The Jogger’s Song by Roger McGough


Well, she was asking for it.
Lyin there, cryin out,
Dyin for it. Pissed of course.
Of course, nice girls don’t.
Don’t know who she was,
Where from, didn’t care.
Nor did she. Slut. Slut.


Now I look after myself. Fit.
Keep myself fit. Got
A good body. Good body. Slim.
Go to the gym. Keep in trim.
Girls like a man wiv a good body.
Strong arms, tight arse. Right
Tart she was. Slut. Pissed.


Now I don’t drink. No fear.
Like to keep a clear
Head. Keep ahead. Like
I said, like to know what I’m dooin
Who I’m screwin (excuse language).
Not like her. Baggage. Half-
Dressed, couldn’t-care-less. Pissed.


Crawlin round beggin for it.
Lyin there, dyin for it.
Cryin. Cryin. Nice girls don’t.
Right one she was. A raver.
At night, after dark,
On her own, in the park?
Well, do me a favour.


And tell me this:
If she didn’t enjoy it,
Why didn’t she scream?






(After leaving the Harp nightclub in Deptford, a 35 year old woman was raped and assaulted by two men in Fordham Park. Left in a shocked and dishevelled state she appealed for help to a man in a light-coloured tracksuit who was out jogging. Instead of rescuing her, he also raped her.)


Reading Of The Joggers Song