Words By Dave Boulton April 2009
D Maj
If you ever at a loose end when you’re visiting up Stoke
Just get off down to Tunstall town past Shelton’s coal and coke
Up Pitts Hill there’s a public house that rare and fair and fine
Run by Miss Ida Alcock she’s Landlady at The Vine
Chorus
Well you wont get deep fried scampi and you wont get chicken and chips
But the beer is always crystal clear like Sunshine on your lips
And if you’re a rough-cut diamond or a legend in your time
It’s all the same to Ida when you’re drinking at The Vine
Well you might be done up to the nines or look a little rough
Don’t worry there’s no dress code – if you’re dressed – that’s good enough
You’ll notice there’s no menu – it’s a PUB – they don’t do food
Though you might just get a sarnie if Ms Alcock’s in the mood
Now you wont hear Spandau Ballet or Alanis Morrisette
You’ll get Peggy Lee and Satchmo on an battered old Danset
And there’s no Karaoke like those dreary city dives
Just a great big box of old LP’s and classic 45’s
If it’s welcome that you’re after there’s no better one than here
Although Ida wont put up with it if you cant hold your beer
The lady won’t have mucky talk so you should know the score
Try it on and you’ll be out so fast your feet wont touch the floor
All the reg’lars have the same old seat they’ve had for 30 years
If you just sit down anywhere it might all end in tears?
Just prop yourself against the bar or sort of improvise
If you wanting your own seat you’ll have to wait till someone dies