Hell Island - The Glory Days of Irish Rock (1997-2003) Lyrics

Songsman is on stage
And he's wearing his wooly hat
So you'd better shut your face
The tour manager is lighting candles and wearing a jimbi drum
I think it's his own

I don't care
I'm in the front bar trying to make it through the throng
The barman is surrounded
By those self-mythologising gatekeepers
Self-mythologising gatekeepers
Self-mythologising gatekeepers
Self-mythologising gatekeepers

The support act is tuning up
They want some more top end on the snare
They're playing to nine supervised by a biker
Playing to nine supervised by a biker
Playing to nine supervised by a biker
Playing to nine supervised by a biker
Playing to nine supervised by a biker
Playing to nine supervised by a biker
Playing to nine supervised by a biker

In the glory days