Ale

Me Dad, now,
Looks a bite like
Alan Sugar.
The 60s blows in
North-Easterly,
An apprentice, he was.
Down The Oak Tree
By unlit fire, draughty,
When work was tough,
Before ale was crafty
And pints were rough.

‘How’s the beer tonight,
Dennis?’
(Who sinks another)
‘Be glad
When ‘ave ad enough!