Shut up and listen, I'm going to tell thee a story
About my trip down South with my box of England's Glory
I took some numbies and a Bodkan, to make me feel at home
I'm going down to London to dig up paving stones
Got to London, half past six, I wished I'd never come,
There's poofs down there drinking halves of lager
Without notes from their mums
No gravy at the chippy, and what's a saveloy?
Every pub was full of foreigners and bottom boys.
If I live to be forty, I'll never understand
Why they're open til eleven down there
To serve beer that's second hand
Dialing 0625 on the telephone, I said:
'Pull us a pint of bitter, Ray, tonight I'm coming home.'
We are all just simple lads, never asked for much,
Just twenty pints of a Friday night and a wife at home to f***.