I got pissed in a thousand cities, or so it seems   I've been kissed by a million pretty women (In your dreams!)   And they say the boy done good   I'm well known to a billion faces down the local pub   I've been jipped at the Millwall races betting on the wrong dog   Still they say the boy done good   Pour me another glass of your liquid poetry   I used to own my destiny, I used to own my destiny   Pour me another glass of your liquid poetry   I used to own my destiny, now my destiny owns me   Frist wife left me, said I was pathetic, so did the sixth   I had a trial down at Charlton Athletic, I was too damned drunk to kick   Still they said the boy done good   Pour me another glass of your liquid poetry   I used to own my destiny, now my destiny owns me   I walked up Chiswick way, past the roundabout and down by the canal   I found an old man pub, Fats Waller 45s spinning on a Wurlitzer in the corner   They said, "come on in son, I see you're from South Ealing,    First pint of Pride is on the house, and why don't you sing a little song with us?   It goes like this..."   You should have heard 'em sing, you should've heard them old drunks sing...   Pour me another glass...