Howling of the Hullhounds



We’ve got that drink you under the table culture

In a local pub full of well-known strangers


Viewed as a second-hand society

But we’re not hand-me-down Hull faces


There’s an oddity in the ‘Old Town’

Where sea shanties ease you into the early mornin’

Unless you’re out dancin’ till dawn- then

There’s a bongo fella perched outside the club

Up for a boogie and a pre-takeaway warmin’


‘Cos everyone’s up for a laugh

When you’re classed as the underdog

Sometimes it’s fun to throw the bone back

Work as a pack

Gi’s a croggy to station, I’ll pay for your tab


Play ‘Block’ ‘round the tenfoot till you hear the ice-cream van

Shout “Mam, gi’s 80p for a cone, promise soon I’ll come home”

Then lark out till she’s gone chuffin’ mad


Once you inhale that Northern Nicotine

You’ve got yourself trapped

There’s a burning ambition ablaze

The inferno spits and snaps

Ger’ya sen down to the gig you’ve been too scared to show up at

And hear your brothers and sisters sing to the city of abstracts.

© Jodie Langford