Richard Dawson The Queen S Head Lyrics
The Queen's Head by Richard Dawson
We're hurrying home from Sheffield
Having received a phone call
From our tearful nephew
Whom we had left in charge
It's happened again, the pub's flooded again
[?] this morning
We've been over to see our mom
Who's in the later stages of dementia
She didn't understand [?]
A whole box of Maltesers, constant rolling all over the floor
How little we are, clung to the river's edge
Come hell or high water, how little we are
Ahh, ahh-ahh-ahh, ahh, ahh-ahh-ahh-ahh
Parked up by the derilict primary school
Tie lines for life around our alcohols
And wade across the plain field
Through the council estate to the market square
The whole town's come out to stand dumbly about
Staring at the filthy water
The guy from the vape shop
Ferrying his chocolate labs
Waves to us cheerily
From [?]
I've lost everything apart from [?]
Pointing to his dogs and then at his heart
How little we are, clung to the river's edge
Come hell or high water, how little we are
Ahh, ahh-ahh-ahh, ahh, ahh-ahh-ahh-ahh
There's a crowd gathered 'round the fat headed butcher
Who's back on his soap box again
Bemoaning the lack of adequate pub defenses
Somehow putting it down to an insurge of benefit-scrounging immigrants
While hanging out packs of sausages, black puddings, ham and haggises
Avoiding making eye contact, we hurry past the baying throng
Our beer garden lies in disarray
Tangled [?] and drowned umbrellas
Crossing the threshold, we are overwhelmed
To find our neighbors who we've never actually spoke to
Working frantically to save our pub
Lifting the tables clear and sweeping them [?]
How little we are, clung to the river's edge
Come hell or high water, how little we are
Ahh, ahh-ahh-ahh, ahh, ahh-ahh-ahh-ahh
How little we are, in the mouth of the wood
Come hell or high water, how little we are
Ahh, ahh-ahh-ahh, ahh, ahh-ahh-ahh-ahh
Ahh, ahh-ahh-ahh, ahh, ahh-ahh-ahh-ahh-ahh
Having received a phone call
From our tearful nephew
Whom we had left in charge
It's happened again, the pub's flooded again
[?] this morning
We've been over to see our mom
Who's in the later stages of dementia
She didn't understand [?]
A whole box of Maltesers, constant rolling all over the floor
How little we are, clung to the river's edge
Come hell or high water, how little we are
Ahh, ahh-ahh-ahh, ahh, ahh-ahh-ahh-ahh
Parked up by the derilict primary school
Tie lines for life around our alcohols
And wade across the plain field
Through the council estate to the market square
The whole town's come out to stand dumbly about
Staring at the filthy water
The guy from the vape shop
Ferrying his chocolate labs
Waves to us cheerily
From [?]
I've lost everything apart from [?]
Pointing to his dogs and then at his heart
How little we are, clung to the river's edge
Come hell or high water, how little we are
Ahh, ahh-ahh-ahh, ahh, ahh-ahh-ahh-ahh
There's a crowd gathered 'round the fat headed butcher
Who's back on his soap box again
Bemoaning the lack of adequate pub defenses
Somehow putting it down to an insurge of benefit-scrounging immigrants
While hanging out packs of sausages, black puddings, ham and haggises
Avoiding making eye contact, we hurry past the baying throng
Our beer garden lies in disarray
Tangled [?] and drowned umbrellas
Crossing the threshold, we are overwhelmed
To find our neighbors who we've never actually spoke to
Working frantically to save our pub
Lifting the tables clear and sweeping them [?]
How little we are, clung to the river's edge
Come hell or high water, how little we are
Ahh, ahh-ahh-ahh, ahh, ahh-ahh-ahh-ahh
How little we are, in the mouth of the wood
Come hell or high water, how little we are
Ahh, ahh-ahh-ahh, ahh, ahh-ahh-ahh-ahh
Ahh, ahh-ahh-ahh, ahh, ahh-ahh-ahh-ahh-ahh