I asked around about this years ago as I have since lost the recording...here goes

GEORDIE WAS A CLUBMAN

Geordie was a clubman, a club man through and through.
He liked his beer. He supped his share of Federation brew.
Of all the early drinkers, George was always first.
The steward said that Geordie had the most prodigious thirst.

Geordie was a clubman. He never missed a session.
To help him pay his drinking debts, his wife she took in washing.
On Mondays at the tournament, he'd sup twelve points or more,
And six more on the bus back home and never ever swore.

Sometimes on a Tuesday, he'd give his wife a treat
And take her to the bingo, making sure she got a seat.
The bingo started promptly at twenty-five to nine.
It was £12 if you shouted "house" or £3 for a line.

But Geordie preferred a Wednesday night. That night the bar was quiet.
It gave him room to work upon his alcoholic diet.
His wife once nearly fainted when he said that "I love you"
But what she didn't notice was that he was staring at his brew.

Now every Thursday evening, they held a discotheque
Attended by one thousand kids with hair right down their neck;
But Geordie didn't like it. He said it's always rowdy,
And all the jumpin' up and down has turned the special cloudy.

Friday was a sober night. he only had 2 quarts.
That was the night he took the floor of captain of the darts.
His eye was clear; his hoi was straight, when aiming for the double,
And them that talked or made a sound would find themselves in trouble.

But Saturday was the best day, there is no doubt at all.
That was the day when Geordie drove his Missus up the wall.
He boozed nonstop without a break till half past ten,
Then he took twelve bottles home and started off again.

Geordie was a clubman. the club was Geordie's life;
And when it came to Sunday night, he always took the wife.
She sipped a bitter lemon whiles George looked on with scorn,
And is he wanted any more, she'd have to buy her own.

It was halfway through September when Geordie caught a cold.
He could not shake it off and poor George was getting old.
The autumn leaves were falling when poor Geordie give up the fight,
And was called before the Chairman of that grand club up the height.

chris.avanti@ukonline.co.uk