A Liverpool 'do'

J'Member sittin' in the pub with yer bitter , brown or light
thinkin' up some small excuse
for a crate back 'ome t'night
Yer didn't need a birthday or a anniversary
to celebrate true friendship in a family used-to-be
A dozen brown, a dozen pale an' half a dozen stout
an' a coupla mackies just in case you'd left somebody out
There was no charge on the bottles
you was in your element
In those pubs of old you realized wot solid friendship meant

Der was Auntie Joan, Uncle Albert,Grandad an' our Nanna
with a dozen more behind the door
around the ol' piana
We danced like crazy to 'Bumps - a - Daisy'
an' Grandad acted the clown
We danced till dawn on Sunday morn'
to 'Knees up Mother Brown'
' 'Enery the eighth I am'
was sung for the umpteenth time
as the girls in pairs went up the stairs
in a wobbley conga line
Dey 'Aye Yi' Yi' Yi' congered as they went throughout the do
an' nothin' there was sacred
they even 'hit' the loo
The lads all harmonized as one in a corner on their own
To the sounds of 'The Four Aces'
on a wind-up gramophone....

One singer - one song was the usual shout
when a favourite song was sung
Everyone had their party piece
an' heartfelt tears were rung
We danced and jived and even waltzed
to the music of the time
There was young and old
in those days of gold
an' a few were passed their prime

Pig's trotters, sarnies, pies an' pints
were the order of the day
an' we all mucked in we were with 'ar Nin'
an' the world was A -Okay
It was our house an' we all had a do in it
in those party days of yore
We seemed to squeeze real memories
behind our own front-door....

By Norm Whittle