The Cock has crowed, the Blackbird’s flown,
On London’s drinking culture.
The Dove has dived, The Falcon fled,
Adieu the George and Vulture.
The Hope is gone, The World’s End ended,
The Fullback fully Faltered.
The Coach and Horses? Ran its courses,
Till the Case is Altered.
The Penderel’s Oak: bereft of folk.
The Running Footman: lame.
The Holborn Whippet: lies insipid.
The Perseverance: same.
It’s the last post of The Blue Post.
The Half Moon’s in eclipse.
Prospect of Whitby: PoW.
Shovell sank his Ships.
Silence in The Lamb; The Gun is shot,
The Euston Tap ran dry.
Princess Louise is down on her knees,
And The Rugby scores no try.
Anchor Bankside’s on its backside,
Water Rats abandon ship.
Captain Kidd has battened hatches,
Cutty Sark received a clip.
Jeremy Bentham, back in his box.
Sherlock plays the fiddle.
Boleyn's had her head chopped off.
Can John Snow solve this riddle?
Up in Hampstead, by the Heath,
The Flask is but a ghost.
The Holly Bush is all a-hush;
The Spaniards, Spanish toast.
But...
We shan't forsake the Rake for long.
The Rising Sun shall light the sky,
Hear the French House punters sing,
"It's au revoir and not goodbye!"
Cheers!
Want to add a verse to this ode? Rhyme up your favourite pubs in the comments below.