O Little Town of Aberystwyth

O little town of Aberystwyth*
How still we see thee lie,
'Cause nothing ever happens as
The months and years go by.
The same old weirdos walk the streets
Like twenty years before.
The sea throws up the rocks and silt
Waves crashing on the shore.

The sheep outnumber townspeople
And gather on the hills,
Whilst in the clubs the depressed kids
Are taking coke and pills.
There's fifty pubs in three square miles,
So what else can I say?
There's nothing much there else to do
Than drink your life away!

How silently, how silently
The streets appear at night,
Apart from on a weekend when
You'll often see a fight,
As farmers come in from the mountains
And get completely pissed
They get to know the students
With the bold use of their fists.

O remote town of Aberystwyth
At the end of the Earth
It takes less time to fly to Spain
For all that it is worth.
Through miles and miles of countryside
You travel on the train,
And when you reach that final stop,
Most likely it will rain.




*Pronounced A-Bear-Ist-With