There are two things you need,
To have a good time;
To be a real testosterone squire,
In your ultra-masculine prime.
Suede, planks the Boardwalk amp,
That creaking simplicity -
Smudged with a damp,
Hop smiled amber toxicity.
You barely need ‘out,
Just an ashtray insanity,
A distorted mind of echoes -
Tangling your ears with a MIC-ed profanity.
The super baggy one way,
The Soul Boys mixing styles
From back in the day,
Integrating the British Isles.
The two things you need,
But first raise a glass,
Look at your mates with…
A Pint and a pair of Adidas.