Let me tell you a story of a
place I know well,
It's drab and it's filthy and hotter than hell,
The paintwork is peeling, the decor is grim,
Clientele unfeeling and impossibly dim.
It's where people go to forget about life,
To meet up with women (but not with their wife)
To gulp from a glass with a lipstick stain,
To cackle and weep, to get pissed again.
Because life is nothing without a stiff drink,
It numbs the brain, makes
it harder to think.
You won't dwell on the farce your life has become,
You don't care that you're broke, that you live in a slum.
Youth and age mix in this hazardous den,
The beautiful and foul, and so many old men.
Gossip spreads like disease through the chattering throng,
"Have you seen who he's seeing?" "I know, isn't
it wrong?"
The barmaid sees all with her watchful eyes,
She looks at the clock, 10 more minutes, and sighs.
Last orders is coming, the hour is late.
Her ankles are killing, her hair's in a state.
"Day off tomorrow", she thinks with a grin,
Better make mine a very large gin!
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