Do you?
*listens*__________
O, how long have you come here?
*listens*__________
Great. Eight years. So, you were back here when it was a gaybar, then. Cool. Anyway, catch you later.
The bartender cleans a glass
But not the codfish. It is disappearing, dying out.
My finny friend the fish
You make a tasty dish
But when survival's threatened, then
To spare you is our wish
We'll eat our chips alone
I don't mean on our own
Without a cod or haddock then
No worries over bone
OooOOOOOOHHH here comes the sax solo
