Sitting in a sleazy snack bar, sucking sickly sausage rolls
Slipping down slowly, slipping down sideways, think I'll sign off the door
Cause the fog on the tine is all mine, all mine, the fog on the tine is all mine
The fog on the tine is all mine, all mine, the fog on the tine is all mine
Could a copper catch a crooked coffin maker? Could a copper comprehend
That a crooked coffin maker's just an undertaker?
Who undertakes to be your friend?
And the fog on the tine is all mine, all mine, the fog on the tine is all mine
The fog on the tine is all mine, all mine, the fog on the tine is all mine
Tell the truth tomorrow, today will take its time to tell you what tonight will bring
Presently we'll have a pint or two together, everybody do their thing
Even to

right
We'll have
everything
all
*
We can swing together, we can have a wee-wee, we can have a wet on the wall
If someone slips a whisper that it's simple, sister, slap them down and slap it on their smalls
Cause the fog on the Tyne is all mine, all mine
The fog on the Tyne is all mine
The fog on the Tyne is all mine, all mine
*