GEORDIE GIRL ƒ  D E B A G New face in the pub on a Friday night - 'You alright?' Asked where she worked, she said: 'Hadaway & Shite.' She was feeling kind of clarty, she was off to the netty, I think she must have meant the bog, 'Do you want a drink, love?' 'Alreet, pet, eighty bob.' Canny lass, Geordie girl, with a crusty gusset and a gob the size of the Tyne Canny lass, Geordie girl, but can he last 'til after closing time? 'Let's go somewhere quiet before my mates arrive, you look lovely.' 'What's wrong with here?' 'Put it this way, you're too ugly.' 'I want another eighty bob, and another pint of scotch, Then you can play with me pink bits.' 'I'm not made of dosh.' 'Well, alreet, fuck off, Southern git.' Canny lass, Geordie girl, he gave her pints and fags and grub and shorts Canny lass, Geordie girl, she gave him earache and penal warts Canny lass, Geordie girl, She talked and talked, he didn't understand a thing Canny lass, geordie girl, by Sunday night she needed emptying ©1989 The Macc Lads N.B.- This song contains expletives, consumer goods and colloquialisms found only in NE England.          Thank goodness. For translation- please ask a bloke in black and white, or red and white stripes. TRACK CHAT HORRID HUNDRED