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smallstepsmadpotepotriemantheartfulcodgerscogterransvoice
I suppose I’m just a dinosaur
Fixed and set in my ways
But I really do prefer
The pubs of my younger days.
The nicci stained ceilings
Those nicci stained walls
In fact the stale smell of nicci
Hanging over it all.

The standard of the air
A bit of of a joke
As you fought your way through
The fug of tobacco smoke.
They sold mild and they sold bitter
Traditional English beers and stout
Not that tarty gassy lager that these days
It seems is what drinking’s all about.

You could sit at the table
Enjoy a pint with a friend
Until last orders shouted
Brought the night to an end.
Nowadays it’s that aberration,
The gastropub and bar,
Mass produced brick boxes so
Only the name tells you where you are

We have all day drinking
No longer the anticipation
Of approaching opening time
For time-limited relaxation.
There seems to be no welcome
Very little effort made
You are just another punter
Of the licensed drinking trade.

Hurry up and drink your drink
We don’t want you hanging around
There are those other diners
Just waiting to sit down.
Smoking is anti-social
And if you need a drag
Go stand in the cold
To smoke your furtive fag.

There are still traditional pubs
But they are few and far between
These days not really
Part of the accepted scene.
Hell yes I’m a dinosaur
Stuck with my outdated ways
But a pub was for a pint and chat
In those past far simpler days.







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