Go On Son, Get The Beers In Poem by James Dickenson

Now getting to the bar's gonna be trouble
So the Marlons'll have to be doubles
Then you drink doubles
The same speed you drink singles
Ah beautiful, the barman holds aloft the crystal glass and I'm having all that's in the
bubble in the bottom of the bottle
Then by three or four, your head's a bit mangled
Bar's full, you mingle
You dance the fandango
You sing all your favourite jingles
Far gone on one, call me Baron Von Marlon
One has a monocle and cigar
Dickie-bow and long johns
My utility belt tells me it's to the bar Batman
Fat cans of that lager then it's straight to the dance-floor
For much more fancy footwork, it's adored by many amour
Don't awe me with your little sidestep technique