Public Bar

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This version sourced from The Mangy Mongol songbook, page 75, AS XLIII.


Early one evening
Just as the pubs were opening
A traveller was walking down
A cold and rainy street
He saw a door ajar
Entered he a public bar
Said, "Landlord, I would like a beer
And something nice to eat.

I fancy some crusty bread
And roast beef of old England
Butter from the churn
And tangy homemade pickles too
And if you think you could
Draw some bitter from the wood
I'd be quite content to quaff
A foaming pint or two.

I'll sit down by your open fire
And contemplate infinity
The quiet of your hostelry
Shall enter in my heart
And if a regular
Should chance to come into the bar
Maybe I'll engage him in
A contest of the darts."

Come in, says the landlord, I've got
Pre-packed fish paste sandwiches
And soya sausage substitute
I purchase by the tonne
So if you fancy it
I could defrost a bit
And smother it up with ketchup
On a supermarket bun.

I'll sling you a plastic pot
Of super-sparkle-ready-brew
As advertised on telly
By a famus rugby scrum
No filthy barrels here
We serve hygenic beer
Safely pasturised inside
This aluminium drum.

So sit down by my fire, Squire
I'll turn the logs on right away
Or maybe you'd prefer to play
My latest fruit machine
Three cherries in a row
That should set your heart aglow
Or how about my jukebox
That should really set the scene."

So the traveller sat down beside
The polystyrene inglenook
Plastic beads were swaying
To an electronic sound
On his bun began to chew
Sank his pint of ready-brew
He gave a ghastly gurgle
And fell dead upon the ground.

"O dear," says the landlord
As he turned the colour telly on
"Another fatal accident
The eighth this week, I fear
If they cannot hold their own
Why don't they stay at home
We don't half get some funny
Customers round here."