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Saturday Night and Sunday Morning
In New Wave days and times of Kitchen Sink,
The Club could seem the centre of the world.
Spent workers went inside to swallow drink;
Tempers might flare, cheap insults would be hurled.
Booze sharpened anger, retribution swelled,
As unattended wives would cast a glance;
The sum of all emotions was expelled
In cold revenge with little left to chance.
And there’s a h...
Friday 26th April 2024 4:53 pm
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