Love at first pint
You were wearing
An extremely short skirt
That night you first walked in
To the showroom of my local
My immediate impression
Was that you were a queer
But I soon realised
That your husky voice
Was a cunning disguise
Of softer undertones
Just think
If you hadn’t ordered a pint of draught Guinness
The manager would have thrown you out
And we may never have met
I couldn’t help laughing
At the regulars
They didn’t mind effeminate men
Using the stag room
But they thought it a bit much
For a masculine woman
To stand at the bar
That is, until you passed around your cigars
The gesture brought quite a few
Appreciative coughs into the atmosphere
And amazing as it was
You were suddenly accepted by everyone
as a thoroughly decent chap
they decided to call you harry
(you often say now you like it much more than harriet)
They even let yu buy a round of drinks
I can still remember
The look on your face
When the barman gave u sixpence change
Out of a pound
You were so happy you cried
And everyone laughed
As the tears run down the cracks of your face
And into your pint
