It’s Beer O’clock.


Tick tock, tick tock,
It’ll soon be beer o’clock.
A nation of workers sit and wait,
With their minds on imminent escape.
And temporary relief from the rat race,
By getting completely shit faced.

Tick tock, tick tock,
Now at last its beer o’clock.
And at the bar a nation stands,
Glasses clutched in eager hands.
Dry throats now nicely wet,
Wages being quickly spent.

Tick tock, tick tock,
It’s now well after beer o’clock.
And the pubs now stand empty,
Bereft of the boozing gentry.
Who are staggering to the chip shop,
As it’s now kebab o’clock.

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