The Ravens

You Know The Pub

Necks twitching like a sickness,
Trilbies line up at the bar,
"I can only see the back of his head, though,"
Reach out and touch the stars...

To a man, goggle-eyed and frenzied,
Look at him, look at her, look at them
Do you think they'll take that table
In this, our lion's den?

Gets papped getting out of the motor,
Gets pulled up by the cops outside,
You should see the queue for the toilets,
Ladies and Gents alike...

You know it's far too popular,
A certain guidebooks' kiss of death,
Too often in the free sheets,
Victim of its' own success...

And it makes me scream
When it's scene, scene, scene,
And who you know,
Not how you play,
And I have had enough of it, let's say....