Ben Mark Smith - Old Irish Band lyrics

Wooden chairs on wooden floors And a bonnie lass at the bar Pouring pints in fishnet tights Whilst shaking her tip jar The boys are gettin’ lairy 'Cause they’ve had a bit to drink What's this poor young barmaid gonna think Autumn locks and knee length frocks In a pub they’d like to call Ye old stairway to heaven ‘Cause at the end most men would fall To their knees, the boys would plead Come take me by the hand Lets dance a jig to this good old Irish band When you haven’t got a phone You’ve better write her a love letter ‘Causе a girl with her foundations Gonna find someone much fittеr And if by chance, some how, some way Your invite aint been canned Then take her to that good old Irish band He takes me to a quaint jazz bar Where the birds are scared to tweet I say what are you playing at I’m here to stamp my feet I know a pub not far away Where the beer and music's grand Come follow me to this good old Irish band When you haven’t got a phone You’ve better write her a love letter ‘Cause a girl with her foundations Gonna find someone much fitter And if by chance, some how, some way Your invite aint been canned Then take her to that good old Irish band This dancing thing aint to hard, i’ve had her up all night Well actually he barely knows his bloody left from right I think she’s playing hard to get I think he’s rather daft But i’ve gotta say, she’s been a rate good laugh When you haven’t got a phone You’ve better write her a love letter ‘Cause a girl with her foundations Gonna find someone much fitter And if by chance, some how, some way Your invite aint been canned Then take her to that good old Irish band When you haven’t got a phone You’ve better write her a love letter ‘Cause a girl with her foundations Gonna find someone much fitter And if by chance, some how, some way Your invite aint been canned Then take her to that good old Irish band