Simon Trought - Friday Night In Loughborough lyrics

You walked all the way from the Griffen to the Moon & Bell Threw up outside the Curzon & that's where you fell And that's how you ripped your tights But you made it back on your feet all right With the girl from Baker's Oven holding back your hair The girl from Baker's Oven holding back your hair The Garton had a 3 for 1 on beer and I was gone I picked a fight I couldn't finish with a Marine from the village He won And sometime later, on his birthday He made the pages of the Leicester Mercury "Get it out for the lads Get it up for the British Get it off for the town Let it down for the village" LA LA LA LA LA LA LA (LA LA LA LA LA LA LA) LA LA LA LA LA LA LA (LA LA LA LA LA LA LA) LA LA LA LA LA LA, LA LA LA LA LA LA LA Well, we ended up in Echoes, making lips at the floor We'd run out of conversation 2 Friday nights before The room was spinning, I wasn't dancing The beat was much too old for dancing My feet followed my neck and found the door Oh, I wish I didn't have to hang out here anymore LA LA LA LA LA LA LA (LA LA LA LA LA LA LA) LA LA LA LA LA LA LA (LA LA LA LA LA LA LA) LA LA LA LA LA LA, LA LA LA LA LA LA LA Well, you got a lift back home to Walton on the Wolds With a head like the Waltzers, bruises and ashtray clothes And in the evening when you wake up You will slap make up on the make up That you slapped on the skin the night before That you slapped on the skin the night before LA LA LA LA LA LA LA (LA LA LA LA LA LA LA) LA LA LA LA LA LA LA (LA LA LA LA LA LA LA) LA LA LA LA LA LA, LA LA LA LA LA LA LA