Whippets, horses beer and pubs
Pidgeons, ex wives, football clubs
The night my mate the engineer
Fixed the footie all for beer
In that pub, the satellite
Dish had moved, he put it right
And everyone could see the match
We poured free beer down the hatch
All night, a skinful our reward
From a grateful landlord
Pidgeons in their derry-cots
Outrage, lies and petty plots
Behind the curtain Kevin lying
Feeling like he's slowly dying
I cannot abandon him
To the club Lancastrian
Debating 'fresh or mushy peas'
In a dialect of 'e's
The staff were very kind
They said they didn't mind
And moved him from the great debate
Of trivia that lasts 'till late
For all I know they're at it still
But he's delivered from 't mill
I left him in the silent gloom
Of a little one-bed room
Sufficient are a body's pains
Apart from old Lancastrians
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