Having a pint
On a dull Saturday night
In a grimy horrid pub
The sort you see
Stuck on to a terrace
No cobbled roads
But orange Street lamps
Back of beyond
Nobody would come here
Unless uninvited

When the weather
Was miserable
Too lazy to go
Downtown
Why spend beer money
On the never on time
Double decker bus
So I crawl to the local
Watered down beer
All grime and no cheer

We were the usual lot
The unshaved and unwashed
We played some pool
On a wonky table
It would move the balls
If you struck ’em too hard
We had salted peanuts
Some were posh with honey
Seabrook’s crisps
Washed down with bitter

The highlight of the night
Was when the vendor came in
Selling you some crabs
That most of us had
Thanks to the barmaid
We had some dodgy fish sticks
That smelt of piss
And something called
Prawn cocktail
Than resembled sick

We had a juke box
With our own CDs
So we payed money
For what we owned
The barman adjusted
The bloody volume
When Slayer played
And all the posh scruffs
Would complain
About that ‘orrible noise

Someone was always
Sat in front of the machine
That ate 50ps
Faster than your sister
Had boyfriends
They celebrated winning
A miserable jackpot
But did they ever
Win back all the time
And money they put in

Between pool and prawns
And betting coins
Flirting with the old lady
Pulling your pints
Hope her dentures
Don’t fall in my drink
Another bag of pork scratchings
As we get closer
To last orders
When we’re kicked out again

Between four walls
And painted over windows
It could have been
Blowing a gale outside
We wouldn’t know
Having another pint
On yet another dull night
The pub filthier by the hour
There are unidentified beings
Crawling under your feet

The pint of bitter
Wets yer throat
Sat miserable
Without a hope
No phone to browse
Back in 1992
So you chucked
Some beer mats
Hitting the bearded
Biker with huge fists
Who is walking over to you
No escape
Nothing to do
Then you hear the crack
Of a breaking pool cue