Aah hord it by Fred Wedlock:

Isn't it strong
Newcastle beer
Me lying here on the ground
Legs in the air
Where are the browns?
There ought to be browns

Just when I'd stopped falling through doors
Finally finding my way from the 'gents' to the bar
Making my entrance again with my usual flair
Arse over tit! straight down the stairs

I looked a prat! I felt a berk
Just like a three-legged man with one leg that worked
Send in the browns
Send in the clown
Don't bother I'm here


Aah thowt ye might like this'n an' aall


I've been out on the town care of Newcastle Brown
And I don't think I'll get home this-a-way
The pub door is shut tight and I'm alone, here in the night
And I'm just a hundred yards away from home

Chorus
A hundred yards, A hundred yards, A hundred yards, A hundred yards
And I'm just a hundred yards away from home

I can't shout, scream or stutter as I lie here in the gutter
And the last bus home leaves treadmarks on my tie
I've got my foot stuck down this drain and it's coming on to rain
And I'm just a hundred yards away from home

Well, I'm feeling kinda funny – It must be that Madras curry
I can see my front door in the neon light (That split the night)
I can hear the steady beat of some copper's hob-nailed feet
And I'm just a hundred yards away from home

In this prison cell I lie with vomit down my tie
Take heed young man! Wherever you may roam
If you think you're the wild rover just be sure you don't fall over
Just a hundred yards away from home