A Pub I Used To Know
The polished wooden bar
is just how I remember.
The optics, the glasses
everything is the same
The beer and pint pots
Drinks for the masses
And the barmaids smile is just as nice
as a barmaid that worked here thirty years ago
For thirty years ago I knew them all;
bar men, barmaids
pot men, and land lords.
Bar loungers, beer drinkers
and Pool players too.
Lunchtime boozers, and officer workers,
smokers, Layabouts, and loungers
misfits, gossips, hangers on
chit chatters, watchers
early doors drinkers, bring it on.
Pints of lager
pints of bitter
Gin and tonics
Whisky and dry
Girls in short skirts eyeing up the lads
Lads and their pints, chatting up the girls
Kissing and cuddling
loves young dream
I’ve seen it all
from the lady in pink who’s giving me the eye
to the girl with the cleavage who shrieks
‘What are you looking at –and why?’
‘Oh don’t mind her –she’s just a bit pissed’
says the barmaid as she polishes the bar
‘Why don’t you have another jar?’
Thanks for the offer I say to my host
but its thirty years since I was a regular here
and the pub’s the same but I feel like a ghost.
There’s a chill in here, a bit of a freeze
maybe its time for’ last orders please.’