Seated on the bar stool br Our Customer Jack br In one hand Theakstons bitter br The other a cigarette pack br br Sporting a wiry moustache br Which curls around his face br He will speak to anybody br Or may stare off into space br br He fills us with his problems br Almost every day br Everything he confides br Is sad in every way br br The melody of Patsy Cline br Echoes through the room br Tears appear in his eyes br Always at this tune br br Eight pints of bitter later br And a whisky always neat br His face has flushed a shade of red br And he’s quivering in his seat br br Wearing his grey mac br It’s never off his back br The bar will lose its character br Without our customer Jackbr br Donna Caldwellbr br