We got to the station platform 5. We got to the City about an hour to 9, made our way to the Red Back Spider, drinking games and queues for cider. We had a walk to the centre of town, there was a dirty little man there a shady colour of brown and his flea ridden dog with a drastic wine instead of a bark which sat scratching it's bollocks. Go meet the Lord Nelson the dirty little man said as we filled his mucky palm with silver and we did. We went to meet Nelson but he wasn't even there, no one was there except a barman. he said "Listen very carefully, I'll say this only once... we don't do Jack" and he meant it they had f**k all, only what René called Vodka which was like cheap nail varnish remover. I cursed that mucky little tramp why did he send us to that dive, dive, dive and from the Rigg we landed feet first slap bang wallop in the middle of the dance floor. Garston Gaston Herr Ober, Mr. Bar Steward, more drink, more drink. Martin, Martin? we're not in Kansas anymore Martin, and we drank, yeah we drank, and the room spun like a roulette wheel on acid, place your bets, place your bets and there in the middle of the wheel was the man that was everybody’s best friend, it was the DJ and he was singing "Do your dance do your funky little dance."