Any artiste mentioning football will be paid off immediately.
But you can't come into club looking like that
Not happy, we'd all had enough of eight hours on the road
Cost you seventy five quid to put that right
Pooh, I can smell vindaloo, ohh, really? No, Sir, O'Reilly
And Chalky and Nozz had set up the gear
Aye, put off thought really, ere, doesn't it?
At our hair as we ride into town
Oh, aye? That's a brand new scratch on the piano
Hoover
Whoa, who did that?
Hobnob
We arrived at the gig looking rough
Will you take your empty glasses back the bar?
Whoa, what?
Yup, yup, yes, indeed
With horrid red wallpaper forty years old
At the club where the, 'Dohl Pal Show' would appear
Before we switched on our theatrical smiles, hey, you remember
Legs Larry said, eh, it's the boozer for me, dear boy
(Pop, pop)
With your long hair and pimples
It stank like a rhino house, Mr. Slater said
You, lads, welcome to the Club B
And and Buddy Greece
And the hotel reception was empty and cold
Hey, redneck, we've had em all ere, you know, Tommy Ray.
You can have a drink in your dressing rooms, lads
Then Neil, Fred, and I played darts for awhile
Hot dogs on sale in the foyer, hey
We can't oblige, thank you
In person as themselves, in person as themselves
Aye, remember Frank Fesher
And we wave to the people who frown
And since then they've never looked back
I've seen you on telly
