AH ME LADS BY BRIAN MEAR

We went past Blaydon Races
Twas the thirteenth of October
Some of us were drunk as lords
And some of us were sober
Our car was full up to the brim
With a thousand of Amelie's cases
Away we went up Collingwood road
By passing the Blaydon Races
We turned up at The Old Queen Vic
Passing sand dancers in various places
Warren rubbed his hands with glee
To see so many dry mouthed faces
All too soon Duncan said BOOM !
With drink awash and smiling faces
Up at the Vic on Victoria Road
No where near Blaydon Races
Culloden plugged in some of their amps
And Stefan had no airs and graces
Karl sweated cobs all leather clad
As they put us through their paces
Next up on stage was Jack the lad
With Lizzy tunes and Hendrix aces
Another beer off David Culyer
And I didn't care about Blaydon Races
And now the Snatch Back Crew
Ian Wood pulled some mighty faces
With some vodka drunk to steady the ship
They took us back to distant places
Stuckfish struck up and lights went down
Philip Stuckey CALLING the Aces
We all had something to believe in
And it sure wasn't the Blaydon Races
The Empire next from far, far away
With Storm troopers we were rising
I'd hit the beer and felt quite queer
That's not bloody surprisin
With Troyen's Jeff keeping the beat
Syrian ladies about the places
Another round in, Warren stroked his chin
He thought he'd won the Blaydon Races
Millennium next and what a sight
Mark Duffy putting them through their paces
Grimley's smile was half a mile
Could be seen by a thousand faces
Mandora on and Born Again
Glow sticks lighting up tiny faces
Paul Binyon with THOSE trousers on!
Ten miles from Blaydon Races
And then it was the witching hour
The metal hoards went crazy
Bucket and Hogg and Abaddon
My mind went kinda hazy
When nominee he sat on us 
I ached in a thousand places
I said leave me hell, I don't mind the smell
It's far better than Blaydon Races
When the Tysondog's were unleashed
With guitars and teeth a snarling
With Kevin Wynn and his cheeky grin
Calling my wife his "darling"
The bastards didn't grind us down
By the look on all our faces
There was not a soul for a mile around
That would've rather be at Blaydon Races