Monday, 23 July 2007

does you good

She says you know it can’t be right
That you go to the pub every Saturday night
Get that down your neck is the cry
As you raise your pint with a gleam in your eye
Three pints down the line as you knew he would
A voice says get it down it’l do you good
Three pints later you feel sick as a dog
And stagger across the room to the bog
The room starts to spin as you knew it would
And a voice says get it up it’l do you good.

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