the bermuda club,i bet me and charlie used to play cards on a beer stained table,in a choking blue haze of cigarette smoke,swinging out of manns brown ale bottles ,while the harpies of the night plied their trade amongst the pimply fresh faced under age teenagers,CASABLANCA EH CHARLIE,heres looking at ya kid.
down the steps ,quick look at the clothes in zissamans window,onto to the pink elephant in bromsgrove st,where my 6 foot red haired giant of a mick would get the beer at the bar and say *fer gods sake keep yer gob shut ,if they know yer are a brit ,we both are dead*.then a taxi to the TALK OF THE TOWN just on the left before waldford rd sparbrook,another knock on the the door 3 times,SEAMUS SENT US,beer was a pound a bottle or was it 2 ,you never dared ask for change,the band would would arrive about 2 in the morning where they would be locked in a cage so as to be out of the way when the fight started as it always did,yer right charlie,the kids dont know how to enjoy themselves today.
mom always waited up (they do that dont they)she would hit me on the head as i went up stairs with her hollering ANY MESS AND YOU WILL CLEAN IT UP YOURSELF.but she always looked in on me later on if only to move my suit from where i throwed it before the WHIRLY PIT took a grip and then you were in trouble.IN ALL THE BARS IN ALL THE WORLD CHARLIE,HAPPY DAYS