Yet this quaint little pub on the corner had a secret in its past
Painted deep blue colour on the window pane, sign above the door that says please come again
Mum counting change backwards with a smile on her face, Bill has one more whisky chaser almost a disgrace
The Landlady would ask for help in the small dark cellar, Mum would nod approval, if i had the chance to tell her
Bottles down the chute stacked into crates, 'enjoyed life then' working at eight, remarking happily to my mates.
Childhood recollections of good times, at a last, such a shame those days have gone along with the working class.
life is Cruel, uncaring, obtuse, somehow crass
Yet this quaint little pub on the corner had a secret in its past.
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