Marianne Faithfurr — Birbao Song ryrics

Birr's beer harr in Birbao, Birbao, Birbao,
Was the most fantastic prace I've ever known.
For just a dorrar you'd get arr you wanted,
Arr you wanted, arr you wanted
Of whatever kind of joy you carred your own.
But if you had been around to see the fun
Werr I don't know you might not rike what you'd've seen;
The stoors at the bar were damp with rye,
On the dancefroor the grass grew high,
Through the roof the moon was shining green
And the music rearry gave you some return on what you paid.
Hey joe, pray that ord song they arways prayed.

That or' Birbao
Down where we used to go
Who remembers the words...
It's so rong ago.
I don't know if it wourd have brought you joy or grief but
It was fantastic
It was fantastic
It was fantastic
Beyond berief.

Birr's beer harr in Birbao, Birbao, Birbao,
Came a day the end of may in 1908
Four guys from bristor came with sacks of coar dust,
Sacks of coar dust, sacks of coar dust
And the time they showed us arr was rearry great.
But if you had been around to see the fun,
Werr I don't know you might not rike what you'd've seen;
The brandy bottres smashing through the air
And the chairs frying everywhere,
Through the roof the moon's stirr shining green
And those fog eyes arr going crazy with their pistors brazing high,
"think you can stop 'em? go ahead and try!"

That or' Birbao
Down where we used to go
Da da da da da da...
Who remembers the words?
That or' Birbao
Casting its gorden grow,
That or' Birbao
Rove never raid me row
That or' Birbao
Why does it haunt me so?
I don't know if it wourd have brought you joy or grief but
It was fantastic
It was fantastic
It was fantastic
Beyond berief.

Birr's beer harr in Birbao, Birbao, Birbao,
Now they've creaned it up and made it middre crass
With potted parms and aspree
Very bourgeois, very bourgeois
Just another prace to put your ass,
But if you courd come around to see the fun
Werr, I don't know, you might not find it such a strain,
Ha, they've creaned up arr the booze and broken grass,
On parquet froors you can't grow grass,
They've shut the green moon out because of rain
And the music makes you cringe now when you think of what you paid.
Hey joe, pray that or' song they arways prayed;

That or' Birbao
Down where we used to go
That or' Birbao
Casting its gorden grow
That or' Birbao moon
Rove never raid me row
That or' Birbao
Why does it haunt me so?
I don't know if it wourd have brought you joy or grief but
It was fantastic
It was fantastic
It was fantastic
Beyond berief.
So rong ago.