The Local

Thank fuck it's Friday We're not going home 'Til we're singing "My Way" or "Come on Eileen" to our family down the phone Long live the local Wherever you roam Times are hard for the hopeful So long live the local As a week of desperation lays thick upon the air I watch a funeral congregation drown their sorrow in despair The landlord pours me another pint As the band murder "Sweet Caroline" again I see a sea of generations and characters collide Please leave the segregation and the class divide outside For within these walls the people, both rich and poor are equal, my dear friends Illuminated by the fruit machine, beneath an England flag I watch "Dodgy Dave" sell stolen steak out of a Tesco bag To the cabbies who abuse ya, if you dare order an Uber for a Ching And the poor barmaid's only 17, she's paid minimum wage For pouring pints and serving therapy, to loners twice her age While the battered "all-the-timers" and the shattered nine-to-fivers form a choir and sing Thank fuck it's Friday We're not going home 'Til we're singing "My Way" or "Come on Eileen" to our family down the phone Long live the local Wherever you roam Times are hard for the hopeful So long live the local Outside the vicar drinks with builders, ex-hooligans and ravers I see the old girls from the bingo, smoking with the undertakers While a hen-do on the breezers, and the get the badge in geezers, share a blunt There's shattered glass beneath a sign, that reads "Please respect the neighbors" When a rollock in a Rolex on the racket has a straightener He thinks he's Tyson Fury But he's knocked out prematurely What a cunt This is a home away, from home for some Leave your troubles at the door Where the roughest of the scum become the richest of the poor We're singing thank fuck it's Friday We're not going home 'Til we're singing "My Way" or "Come on Eileen" to our family down the phone Long live the local Wherever you roam Times are hard for the hopeful So long live the local La la la la la la la la la la la la La la la la la la la la la, long live the local La la la la la la la la la la la la La la la la la la la la la, long live the local From every wake, to every wedding, every "Happy Birthday" sung Every lock-in with the landlord, once the last order bells rung My first bump at the urinal, my first heartbreaking cup final spent in tears From the cradle, to the grave From your first drink, to your last I've watched love and life and loss Dreamt of the future, mourned the past From my sad days, to my bad days To my best I've ever had days I was here