We paid our weekly shilling for that January trip:
A long weekend in London, aye, without a bit of kip.
There's a seat reserved for beer by the boys from Abercarn:
There's beer, pontoon, crisps and fags and a croakin 'Calon Lan'.
And we were singing hymns and arias,
'Land of my Fathers', 'Ar hyd y nos'.
Into Paddington we did roll with an empty crate of ale.
Will had lost at cards and now his Western Mail's for sale.
But Will is very happy though his money all has gone:
He swapped five photos of his wife for one of Barry John.
And we were singing hymns and arias,
'Land of my Fathers', 'Ar hyd y nos'.
We got to Twickers early and were jostled in the crowd;
Planted leeks and dragons, looked for toilets all around.
So many there we couldn't budge -twisted legs and pale:
I'm ashamed we used a bottle that once held bitter ale.
And we were singing hymns and arias,
'Land of my Fathers', 'Ar hyd y nos'.
Wales defeated England in a fast and open game.
We sang 'Cwm Rhondda' and 'Delilah',
damn, they sounded both the same.
We sympathised with an Englishman
whose team was doomed to fail
So we gave him that old bottle, that once held bitter ale!
He started singing hymns and arias,
'Land of my Fathers', 'Ar hyd y nos'.
So it's down to Soho for the night,
to the girls with the shiny beads;
To the funny men with lipstick on,
with evil minds and deeds.
One said to Will from a doorway dark,
damn, she didn't have much on.
But Will knew what she wanted,
aye...his photo of Barry John!
'Cos she was singing hymns and arias,
'Land of my Fathers', 'Ar hyd y nos'.
To listen to Max singing this classic, click here