Pogues, The. Bottle Of Smoke. Zeneszám

:
Thanks and praises

Thanks to Jesus

I bet on the Bottle of Smoke

I went to hell

And to the races

To bet on the Bottle of Smoke



The day being clear

The sky being bright

He came up on the left

Like a streak of light

Like a drunken fuck

On a Saturday night

Up came the Bottle of Smoke



Twenty fucking five to one

Me gambling days are done

I bet on a horse called the Bottle of Smoke

And my horse won



Stewards inquiries

Swift and fiery

I had the Bottle of Smoke

Inquisitions and suppositions

I had the Bottle of Smoke



Fuck the stewards

A trip to Lourdes

Might give the old fuckers

The power of sight

Screaming springers and stoppers

And call out coppers

But the money still gleams in my hand like a light



Bookies cursing

Cars reversing

I had the Bottle of Smoke

Glasses steaming

Vessels bursting

I had the Bottle of Smoke

Slip a fifty to the wife

And for each brat a crisp new five

To give me a break on a Saturday night

When I had the Bottle of Smoke

Priests and maidens

Drunk as pagans

They had the Bottle of Smoke

Sins forgiven and celebrations

They had the Bottle of Smoke



Fuck the Yanks

And drink their wives

The moon is clear

The sky is bright

I'm happy as the horses shite

Up came the Bottle of Smoke