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