It’s that time again remove the cork from my skull,

Poor it in that liquid sin that silky friend of mine, 

It’s time oh time for that dance to take hold and see life through a gleam, 

So give me that smell of old ale, that burnt wood and shining glass, 

Give me that smeared bottle and that battered brass to prop up my woes, 

Give me that golden girl, those sparkles to dazzle and rattle my rusted cage, 

But don’t give me that dread, that empty pack of cards without a coin in sight, 

That I’ll leave in the dim cobbled streets where I hide in hope of that gleam again and your smoke stained smile that you gave me before we parted