through forests and fogs
through thickets and thin
i trek through the country
to get to the din

but when i get to the club
they wont ever let me in
i take the wrong drug
and i dont want to sing

for my supper or a beer
from a big bouncer ****
and i dont know where to go
once ive got inside the club.

Some get in and go sit down
and some go straight to the bar buy a round
and some take their coats off and some do not
and some move their feet as if the floor is too hot
those with their feelers on the girls dont stop
and their feet and their mouths and their eyes move a lot

on a soft dark sofa in the corner of the room
a drink and his man are buried in the gloom
nurse it, slurp it, swiggin it, sippin it
rock it, slop it, drink it down.

he worked all week and no one likes that
so he drank all the beer in the fridge and fed the cat
and the night fell down and the wind whipped up
in a nice new clean cut shirt he left the flat
lager in his arteries and sorrow on the brain
if his work makes him insane then he’s losing at the game
dance drink chat **** feel less sane.