[Verse 1: Pub-rock male lead, shouted, straight loud drums] Thirty years on the same bar stool Dougie Fitz, every regular's fool When it's his turn he's off to the gents Comes back after with a fistful of cents Never bought a round since the place was built Drinks your beer with no sign of guilt Lend him a tenner and it's gone for good Tightest man in the neighbourhood [Pre-Chorus: Pub-rock male lead, raw guitar riff] Then one Friday the door flies wide Dougie's grinnin' with a ticket inside [Chorus: Pub-rock male lead, full force] This one's my shout Pour 'em tall till the taps run out Every glass in the bar, no doubt This one's my shout [Verse 2: Pub-rock male lead, shouted, solid bass] Two million dollars on a Thursday draw Dougie's standin' on the pool room floor Shoutin' schooners and shoutin' pies Shoutin' rum for the footy guys Saturday night and he's shoutin' still Old Marge from the bakery's havin' her fill Sunday, Monday, he's buyin' the town First man in, last one to go down [Chorus: Pub-rock male lead, full force] This one's my shout Pour 'em tall till the taps run out Every glass in the bar, no doubt This one's my shout [Bridge: Pub-rock male lead, slower, raw guitar riff] Day eight the publican squints at the wall At the syndicate sheet by the phone in the hall Five bucks a week from every regular here And the numbers match Dougie's, it's crystal clear Dougie goes quiet for the first time in his life Looks at the barman, looks at his ex-wife Then he climbs on the stool with his schooner raised And he roars like a man who has never been fazed [Verse 3: Pub-rock male lead, shouted, straight loud drums] Dougie put the money in like the rest Only time in his life he was ever impressed With a thing that cost him, and he took the lot Shouted all of us with the cash we'd got So the whole town drank its own winnings dry And Dougie stood there with a tear in his eye Saying fair's fair, boys, I bought every one Thirty years and he still ain't bought none [Count-in: Pub-rock male lead, screamed count-in, alone] One, two, three, four [Final Chorus: Pub-rock male lead, full force, band back in on four] This one's my shout Pour 'em tall till the taps run out Every glass in the bar, no doubt This one's my shout [Outro: Pub-rock male lead, shouted, raw guitar riff] So if you're ever down at the Royal some night And a skinny old bloke says the next one's right On him, mate, don't you believe a word Check the wall first, that's all I've heard [End]
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