Some Roadfood friends in a public house
Were really drinking hard one night
When into the pub the Mayor ran
His face all a chalky white.
"What's up", says Pete, "Have you seen a ghost,
Or have you seen Pogophiles?"
"Pogophiles be buggered!", says he,
"The bleedin' pub's on fire!"
And there was Sundancer upside down
Lappin'' up the whiskey on the floor.
"Booze, booze!" The Mayor cried
As they came knockin' on the door (clap clap)
Oh don't let 'em in till it's all drunk up
And somebody shouted Ort! Ort!
And we all got blue-blind paralytic drunk
When the Old beer joint caught fire.
"Oh well," says Bushie, "What a bit of luck.
Everybody follow me.
And it's down to the cellar
If the fire's not there
Then we'll have a grand old spree."
So we went on down after good old Oneiron
The booze we could not miss
And we hadn't been there ten minutes or more
Till we were quite pissed.
Then, Bobs walked over to the port wine tub
And gave it just a few hard knocks (clap clap)
Started takin' off his pantaloons
Likewise his shoes and socks.
"Hold on, " says Tiki, "that ain't allowed
Ya cannot do that thing here.
Don't go washin' trousers in the port wine tub
When we got Guinness beer."
Then there came from the old back door
The Vicar of the local church.
And when he saw our drunken ways,
He began to scream and curse.
"Ah, you drunken sods! You heathen clods!
You've taken to a drunken spree!
You drank up all the Benedictine wine
And you didn't save a drop for me!"
And then there came a mighty crash
Half the bloody roof caved in.
We were almost drowned in the firemen's hose
But still we were gonna stay.
So we got some tacks and some old wet sacks
And we nailed ourselves inside
And we sat drinking the finest Rum
Till we were bleary-eyed.
Later that night, when the fire was out
We came up from the cellar below.
Our pub was burned. Our booze was drunk.
Our heads was hanging low.
"Oh look", says The Mayor with a look quite queer.
Seems something raised his ire.
"Now we gotta get down to Murphy's Pub,
It closes on the hour!!
