Jukebox

All the daggers in direction of an unfamiliar bloke Who's worming through the punters in an old Ben Sherman coat He's standing in hypothesis observed in disbelief As the yellow fingertips dip through a pouch of amber leaf

And now the dogs playing poker on the wall get back to business Underneath that drawing pin where the tinsel hangs at Christmas And a battle axe collecting glasses asks him not to swear When he said he came from Lancashire Ran his fingers through his hair pulls out a quid

There's a bandit playing killer with his shrapnel by the pocket As an old boy in the corner barricades the only socket And he now leads the topic of a girl with two left feet Who's gasping for an Ecig and cab down silver street

And as the teeners play out, the locals love a notion There's a bloke that's drowning in the same specific ocean A Caribbean cocktail mixed with sand from overseas Till a bird unplugs the jukebox as they scream in disbelief Chuck him a quid

Don't unlock them doors til they play one more Can we get one more for the road? Don't unlock them doors til they play one more Saying please if you can, just leave the jukebox alone

There's a bolt across a wooden door with licence that's unstable As the landlord reaches on the shelf for ashtrays round the table A faded logo on a glass gets filled in by the nectar As a bag roasted peanuts gets passed by chief inspector

As the bell rings out to tell them that it's over A six year old in a den of coats is the only one who's sober And now the battle axe is back to tell them all sup up an leave When he's midway through an anthem, it's the best bit fucking please Give us a quid

Don't unlock them doors til they play one more Can we get one more for the road? Don't unlock them doors til they play one more Saying please if you can, just leave the jukebox alone