Hole in the Wall

What happens when the pub shuts its door?

A young man walks in with a stride of wonder,

He looks around and he takes in the room,

While everybody looks on he stands up on a stool

He leans his head back,

He lets out a cry,

Now that we’ve reached,

The very end of time,

Now that everything has stopped,

And everything is still,

We’ve gotten nothing darling,

But time to kill.

In the hole in the wall,

It’s not big enough to fit us all,

In the hole in the wall,

The auld wan wearing her black lace shawl.

The man in the corner with a gold plated tooth,

And a cap on his head all worn and loose,

He sang a song that his grandfather gave him,

A light whistled from his mouth as he clutched his tie pin.

An old woman in the corner with a tear in her eye,

Asked to share a story of when she was a child,

She spoke of travellers mending tins of all kinds,

And friendships that taught her innocent mind

A lad with a James Joyce cap enters the room,

With a painting of a ship sank in 1792,

And he told us its stories of adventures and demise,

With an Oscar Wilde flamboyance, after time…

In the hole in the wall,

It’s not big enough to fit us all,

In the hole in the wall,

The painting of the ship above the barman’s stall,

In the hole in the wall,

The auld wan wearing her black lace shawl,

In the hole in the wall,

Is it big enough or small enough to fit us all

The auld fella in the corner,

The involuntary mime,

That’s where we’ll all end up,

After time.