YE OLDE PASTIE SHOP

YE OLDE PASTIE SHOPPE All who come to Bolton stare At Octagon and Town Hall Square At elephant and pigeon flock At Tutankhamen’s dusty sock The list goes on, so don’t complain Pop down to Churchgate’s claim to fame The pastie shop is on your left Its Georgian windows catch your breath A place of old that’s been around Since Bolton Lancs has been a town Your jaw will drop, you’ll see the queues You’ll shake your head then say ‘fair dos’ You’ll get in line else wish you had And get your grub just like your dad. ‘Two pasties, love, and one meat pie’ All made by hand; the queues don’t lie Then step outside and take a pew With friendly folk and ‘Bobbies’ too Then sit with pasties in each hand Ain't life simple; ain't life grand?