Just a gang, a club, I guess,
Where subjects like war and cheese and mess,
Are passed around the room like a bottle of red.
A platonic marriage but sort of unsaid.
Walk in with a bottle, and a story and a sigh,
And leave with a plan and a slightly slurred 'goodbye!'
When you've cried so much you've that ache in your teeth,
It's ears and cheers and arms to sit 'neath.
To laugh so hard and feel so full of us,
What a gang we are, worth the stupid bus.
We can be each other's heroes, isn't that ****** nice?
To be in love forever, in a messed up paradise.
Yeah we're a gang alright, and a party we can throw,
Just as soon as Christmas ends, or dr who, ya know.
