D’you really think I’m gonna serve you, kid?

That fake ID won’t do no good in here.

The Follies ain’t some dive run off the grid,

Where punks like you can go to blag some beer.

 

You can’t fool me, I’ve seen it all before;

I bet your mother doesn’t know you’re out,

And if we have to kick you out the door,

She’ll hear about it, and you’ll get a clout.

 

Yeah, just because I’m stood behind this bar,

Don’t fool yourself that I’m completely dumb;

You ain’t as clever as you think you are,

So turn around and get back to your mum.

 

Don’t come back till you’re old enough to drink,

Or next time you will end up in the clink.