Lyrics: Tossers (The). Long Dim Road. The Pub.

Tough guy jackets piled high
Bar room smoke and swinging thighs
On the people they own the men's watchful eye
Pool ball blast it's a hell of a high
Room full of "adults" that frequent this place
Everyone knows it's safe and knows every face
A year off holiday, till then come here
A hell of a lot better than being cold out there
Stalwart of morality conversation piece
Thinkin' twice about your bar room theories, just like you think police
Work is soon but the pub's oh so warm
No one believes their intentions could suck
You go home 2 out of 4 times - scream and shout
Your watch it runs you ragged - scream and shout and then get out
The harder they come the harder they fall
Revolutionary theories from the end of a pall mall
Well, and we're always here, we're alway here
We always drink - it's always gin and beer
Because it's safe, it's warm, it's easy
The way it ought to turn out
As we sing a rebel song - we are the Donne Street bar room louts

Back to the pub, it's a snub, it's a dub
Let's get the hell away
I'd smash all Parliament teeth in
No I don't believe in what you say
From across the room a bad wog joke
Now I hear the laughter of all the corner bar room blokes
A barrage of napkins hit him, another joke, another shove
And he turned around the face the almost imminent bout above
He sat there as he told them that he didn't want to scrap
If you're this bored it must be bad
They chuckled and they giggled and they weren't back to their beer
See now those fuckin' nutters, they best not come over here
As they left they nudged hime and he broke his hand across his face
And the four of them piled on top in a scrap that nearly destroyed the place
With a left-right-left-right-left-right he beat them to the ground
And before he turned to finish his beer the cops had swarmed around
And threw them all in jail charged with inciting riots too
R.A. affiliation and hospital for the other two
Two of the boys were topped in jail last week and Jimmy's scared they will never come home
I wonder how boring it'll have to get again to be turned into a demilitarized zone
Now the mess is gone and not too long we always do come back here
It happens nearly every night, well maybe it's because of the craic here
And we stay here and we never leave lest we're dragged the hell right out
Well, prison must be a hell of a place, 'cause that's where they all went out
Sittin' next to another bad mother fucker in jail
Another round they shout
Sittin' next to another bad mother fucker in the morgue
Another round they shout

(Thanks to Anne for these lyrics)