So, the boys got together and formed a band Fate played the straight man And since then they've never looked back
You, lads, welcome to the Club B I've seen you on 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 Legs Larry said, eh, it's the boozer for me, dear boy Yup, yup, yes, indeed
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, ohh, 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, 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 ere, 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, ere, 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 me self, lads, it's for