PUB FEVER I must go down to the pub again. for bitter from the keg, And all I ask is a pork pie, and perhaps a pickled egg. And my wife perched on her bar stool, drinking scrumpy cider, And me there supping bitter ale, sitting right beside her. I must go down to the pub again to laugh with the old farts, And all I ask is dominoes, or perhaps a game of darts. And the musky smell, the hoppy smell, the smell that I recall, And standing in the outside lav peeing up the wall. I must go down to the pub again to talk to my best mate, And we will chat and drink and laugh, and put the whole world straight. And all I ask is a lager chilled, served in a frosted glass, And a piled up roaring winter fire, where I can warm my knees. Andy Soper 23/10/24 (c)
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