So the boys got together and formed a band...uh, fate played the
Straight man, and since then they've never looked back...
You, lads, welcome to t'Club be , I've seen you on t'telly with your long
Hair and pimples. (pop pop)
We arrived at the gig looking rough
Not happy, we'd all had enough
Of eight hours on the road (honk!)
Legs Larry said, eeh, "It's the boozer for me, dear boy."
Yup, yup, yes indeedy
And the hotel reception was empty and cold
With horrid red wallpaper forty years old
It stank like a rhino house!
Mr. Slater said, "Pooh, I can smell Vindaloo."
"Oh, really?" "No, Sir, O'Reilly!"
Hobnob
And we wave to the people who frown
At our hair as we ride into town
And Chalky and Nozz had set up the gear
At the club where the "Dohl Pal Show" would appear
In person as themselves (oarf! oarf!)
In person as themselves
"Then Neil, Fred, and I played darts for awhile."
"Before we switched on our theatrical smiles!"
"Hey, you remember!"
Hot dogs on sale in the foyer
Hey...
You can have a drink in your dressing rooms, lads, but you can't come
Into club looking like that. We can't oblige. Thank you.
Hey, Redneck!
We've had 'em all here, you know, Tommy Ray.
Oh, aye?
That's a brand new scratch on the piano, cost you seventy-five quid to put that
Right.
Whoa, who did that?
Aye, remember Frank Fesher
And and Buddy Greece!
Aye!
Put off thought really, here, doesn't it?
Whoa, what?
Will you take your empty glasses back the bar?
Any artiste mentioning football will be paid off immediately.
Hoover
It's not for meself, lads, it's for me daughter.
Five pints of lager, and one Coke!
It's not me, lads, it's the manager what makes the rules.

Writer : VIVIAN STANSHALL, NEIL JAMES INNES
Copyright : Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group