macc lads – hen night lyrics
the pub went hush, could hear a f-g drop, a gl-ss vibrates on the table top. far away, a worrying sound, the rumble of flesh, from the other side of town.
sup up your beer, collect your f-gs, before we’re hit by flying jam rags, clattering heels and giggling squeals, they scream, they howl, they hiss, totter down the cobbles, teeshirts a wobble, it’s the hen night on the p-ss.
“we’re not fussy who we’re sh-gging, just get us a rum and black in, we’ll sh-g geordies, we’ll sh-g scousers, get your c-cks out of your trousers”
i’m buried beneath giggling flesh. a size fourteen in a size eight dress, spritzers spilled, cameras flash, your knee’s full of -rs-, your ‘tache is full of gash, handbags swinging, drunken singing: “show us yer kn-b” and “gissa kiss”, chippendales then chips and ale, it’s the hen night on the p-ss
“we’re not fussy who we’re sh-gging, just get us a rum and black in, we’ll sh-g geordies, we’ll sh-g scousers, get your c-cks out of your trousers”
to fade
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