My clubman is comin on friday at four
Hide behint couch,dont ansert door
I owe him three weeks he`ll go chuffin mad
I owe everybody,it`s down to your dad
He gets things ont drip and leaves it to me
A smooth talkin sort,i`ll pay you`ll see
When me clubman comes round,nowhere to be seen
He`s proppin up the bar in the old british queen
If that clubman knocks more than twice it`s a farce
I`ll put dog muck int yard so he`ll fall on his elbow
It`s a nightmare bein skint, i`ve got tic everywhere
Im so chuffin stressed and losin me air
He`s comin downt path with his book in his hand
He`s claimin i owe him two an half grand
All of us hidin i thought he had gone
I opened the door and there he was stood, the big maupin scone
Copyright James Byrne
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