Maybe I should give it one more chance
The stupidly-named beers, badly kept
And the meagre, over-priced snacks
Provide an authentic ambience
The crimson drinkers whose stare is blank
Sun-ripened by some Spanish pool
Radiate their hostility
Like lobsters plucked from a tank
I used to pretend it was not rough
The bitter not sour, the lager sweet
Until one of them turned on me
It seems I was not local enough
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