A song about the typical weekend in the world of ‘Davy’. It’s a story of how many folk deal with the rigours of the working week. When Friday arrives, it’s time to blow off a bit of steam in the local pubs and clubs…and so an endless cycle continues.
Here he comes; it’s wee Davy dandering up the street,
He's just knocked off work and it's Friday,
He’s goin' to meet his two mates outside the Raven,
And then they're headin down to the Westbourne.
There's a good band on tonight and they do lots of blues stuff,
The three of them'll get well-oiled and play some air guitar,
Then a Chinese on the way home and fall asleep on the chair with the plate still on your knee,
Life is good. It's Friday night in Belfast.
Look, you work all week so you deserve to blow off a bit of steam, know what I mean?
And the Saturday morning pounding head gets cured with the first pint of the day talking to Jackie,
He's talking about Goodwood and Newbury, and the going is firm,
There's a cert' in the four o'clock and he's got a score on it,
It's a good thing - he can feel it in his water
He'll listen to the race on his wee transistor radio while cheering on the Glens,
Life is good. It's Saturday in Belfast.
Davy's woke up on Sunday and last night’s just a blank,
His ma's made him an Ulster fry, he can smell the bacon from his room,
He'll wash it down with a big glass of milk, you couldn't beat it with a big stick,
He'll go out to the back yard in his bare feet and sit and have a smoke,
And the wheels of his brain start kicking in with the thought of going in to work tomorrow,
And the start of yet another week,
He gets a call from Beeper, saying their meeting up in the Welders,
To watch the Sunday football on their big screen TV,
Life is good. It's Sunday in Belfast.