Disco Love Across the Pubs

Versuri

Pippa & Fletch [Verse 1] Down at the Chum sits Pippa with her Fosters, Telling tall tales like nobody knows her. “I’m eighty-one!” she proudly claims, Though nobody’s quite sure where she gets those dates. And over at the Corner House, Fletch takes his seat, With a Taddy in his hand and dust on his feet. They’re miles apart but their hearts beat true, Pippa’s got Fletch, and Fletch’s got Poo. [Chorus] Oh, Pippa and Fletch, what a pair, what a sight, Separated by pubs but together at night. She’s the biggest bullshitter Shropshire’s ever seen, And he’s covered in dust like he’s been on a scene. She’s barred from the Corner — or so people say, But Pippa insists, “I barred myself anyway!” They may not be drinking in the same old boozer, But nobody’s stopping this love story cruiser. [Verse 2] She’s done every job that there’s ever been, From scrubbing the floors to running the scene. She worked at the Co-op, or that’s what we’re told, Till she stickered the bargains a little too bold. Reduced on the beans, reduced on the bread, Reduced on the things that were already dead. The manager shouted, “Pippa, that’s enough!” She said, “I’m only helping — life’s bloody tough!” [Chorus] Oh, Pippa and Fletch, what a pair, what a sight, She’s drinking Fosters while he’s drinking all right. She’s eighty-one — well, that’s her story, And Fletch is sixty, in all his glory. She’s barred from the Corner, or so people claim, But she says she barred herself — quite a different game. He’s covered in dust, she’s covered in lies, But there’s something quite lovely behind those eyes. [Bridge] She says, “He’s mine!” He says, “She’s mad!” She says, “I’m eighty-one!” He says, “Don’t be daft!” Two separate pubs, two separate chairs, But somehow they’re always a pair. [Final Chorus] So here’s to Pippa, the queen of the Chum, With a pint of Fosters and stories to come. And here’s to Fletch with his Taddy in hand, The dustiest lover in all of the land. She’ll tell you she barred herself — ask her, she’ll swear, While Fletch sits laughing in the Corner House chair. They might drink apart, but the truth can be seen: She’s his Pippa, and he’s her Fletch — the finest love story there’s ever been! [Outro] “I’m eighty-one!” Pippa cries with a grin, Fletch raises his Taddy and says, “Let her win.” Fosters and Taddys, divided by miles, Two daft old romantics… and one hell of a smile.