Midday Mass

Filter coffee but it's half the price

Veg oil dripping down the old fish slice

Owners always trying to entice, while the neon flickers on

Greasy palace on stony ground

Right in the middle of town

And it ain't been busy since the pits closed down

But those days are long gone

They say there is a majesty about it

No you shouldn't drink but they allow it

Never had the licence anyhow it runs on the fuels of an old coal town

Waitress staying on more than planned

Fends off whistles while she's in demand

It's a thankless task but it's cash in hand

The bills won't pay themselves

And thw boys sit down and wait to be fed

You should hear the language as they butter the bread

Coarser than the pepper on their battery eggs

Who's paying? I dont know

Looking for an atmosphere, they bring it

Classic on the radio and they sing it

It's a church choir, if anything

It's midday mass and tea for five

The working is hard but the fun comes easy

Every night they're loving freely

Oh anything to help you when you're on your own

It's quiet now but it's still seen off

Bars with the high end tablecloths

The cocoa nibs and the flat white froths

With the bread rolls three-for-two

It's a strange old time in a strange old space where the working man he just feels displaced

And Murdoch's rags turn race on race

I blame them, do you?

Sadly it's a problem and I see it

People see a headline and believe it

If it's on the table, people read it

So they stopped leaving the worst ones out

Welcoming and wary, we combine it

Shouldn't put you off, no you won't mind it

If you're paying, card they might decline it

Help the tax man with the count