Free entry before 6:00pm

I sit and pick the label from
a bottle of Newcastle brown,
I'm listening to the forecast,
but i feels like im starting to drown
Programmed spots do a lonely robot,
hell they can move yeah they give what they got
they seize the moment take their chance,
the floor is empty so they start to dance.
 
My table top is awash with slops,
I fold and float a rizzla boat
and sail outside for another smoke.
theres always one who just wants to fight
but a prison thin roll-up seems to make it alright.
 
Its happy hour, so I smile and knock back,
another pint  of cider and black,
a tongue that trips, turns eyes into slits
but theres no one around me who gives a shit.
I make a move try to get off my stool,
stuck in a strobe light like an old fool
another random loser seems like he's ready to fight
so I talk to myself and we call it a night

My table top is awash with slops,
I fold and float a rizzla boat
and sail outside for another smoke.
theres always one who just wants to fight
but a prison thin roll-up seems to make it alright.