OK Dave, yer asked for it :-

It's silent away from your kindred and all
By the bar of a night, where the Jobsworth's call
There's nothing so lonesome, or so like hell
Than to stand in the bar of a pub with no PEL

The publican's anxious for license to come.
The crowd are all thirsty, and acting Schtum
The jukebox' gone cranky. Karaoke is hell.
What a terrible place is a pub with no PEL.

The troubadour walks in, with his finely tuned throat
Breasts up to the bar; pulls a flute from his coat;
But the smile on his face quickly turns to a sneer
As the barman says sadly; "You can't play here."

The singer rolls in, covered in dust and flies;
Goes up to the bar, wipes the sweat from his eyes
But when he is told, he says; "What's this you tell?
I've come seventy miles to a pub with no PEL."

There's a dog under the table, for shut tap he waits
But the boss is all quiet, can't sing with his mates
He cowers with terror, for it's a doggy hell
It's no place for a dog, in a pub with no PEL

It's lonesome away from your kindred and all
In a Pub in the country, where the little birdies call
But there's nothing so stupid, so we will tell.
Cos that avian chorus requires no PEL

Gareth