Hard Cases

You're in the pub at half past ten, the money for the

Cure all spent again,

Trying to figure out who's carrying and where they'll

Be that day

Forget about the night before when you were flying for

An hour or more

And move across to the Central Bar hoping that you'll

See

Chorus:

One of them hard cases, soft faces, who grip you with

Their deadly smile,

The grip it slowly tightens and the grin gets slowly

Deeper

And beads of perspiration stand out upon your

Cadgilation

Someone takes the pressure off and calls out more

Porter

Soon enough the tap runs dry and the afternoon goes

Slowly by

The Barman looks on warily as your mates come drifting

In

Someone says there's a session on, a tarnished bard has

Just hit town

Move across to the Widows; see if you can rustle up the

Entrance fee from

Chorus:

A woman you know buys you your last and the evening

Goes flashing past

Bridie's screaming as your eyeing the slops behind the

Bar

The party crowd is gathering, the banjo, fiddle and

Mandolin

The cider flagon hunt is on, if you haven't got a

Tosser

Won't you bring along a dozen of...