The publishers arms what an orrible place
It’s a gloomy building with typically no taste.
Dated doors hang off dated frames
And dated people try and remember dated names.
An old Piano that’s never been played
Sits in the corner and drinks lemonade.

The publishers Arms its open all night
If you get here early you might see them fight.
Puffing and sucking expelling their gas
Announcing their presents and boring the mass.
The Publishers Arms come on lets knock it down
And build something new for the rest of the crowd
Keep the sign that hung outside
Just a reminder of the good old times Ha Ha


 
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