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Sally Can't Drink

 

Silly little Sally

Born in the valleys

When her mother and her father had a fling

Nine months after a day at the races

When nobody won anything

And she went shilly shally, dilly dally

Pretty young Sally couldn't tell

Where the nice safe street hit the dangerous alley

And we all knew it wouldn't end well

And it was Wimbledon blue on the window

Tottenham white on the floor

Liverpool red on her pillow

And Sally can't drink anymore

Silly little Sally

Working in a galley

In the rough old arse end of town

She couldn't pay back all her nose bag money

And she had to disappear underground

And she went shilly shally, dilly dally

Pretty young Sally had a friend

But he was a robber and a scamp and a scally

And we all knew how it would end

And it was Wimbledon blue on the window

Tottenham white on the floor

Liverpool red on her pillow

And Sally can't drink anymore

Sally couldn't deal with the voices

That kept her awake all night

She couldn't comprehend that not everything was written

In Newcastle black and white

Sally would turn to the bottle

Whenever the clouds came in

She longed for a time when the entire world

Was covered in Yeovil green

And it was Wimbledon blue on the window

Tottenham white on the floor

Liverpool red on her pillow

And Sally can't drink anymore

 

And it was Wimbledon blue on the window

Tottenham white on the floor

Liverpool red on her pillow

And Sally can't drink anymore

© Richard Quarterman 2017