New face in the pub on a Friday night - 'You alright?'
I asked where she worked, she said: 'Hadaway & shite!'
She was feeling kind of clarty, she was off to the netty,
I think she must have meant the bog,
'Do you want a drink, love?'
She says, 'Alreet, pet, eighty bob.'
Canny lass, Geordie girl, with a crusty gusset and a gob the size of the Tyne
Canny lass, Geordie girl, but can he last 'til after closing time?
'Let's go somewhere quiet before me mates arrive, you look lovely.'
'What's wrong with here?'
'Oh, for fucks sake, you're too ugly!'
'I want another eighty bob, or else a pint of scotch,
and then you can play with me pink bits.'
'I'm not made of dosh.'
'All right then fuck off, Southern git.'
Canny lass, Geordie girl, he gave her pints and fags and grub and shorts
Canny lass, Geordie girl, she gave him a earache and penal warts
Canny lass, Geordie girl, She talked and talked, he couldn't understand a thing
Canny lass, geordie girl, by Sunday night she needed emptying