When Alison is bell-ringing, Simon attends the Dragon Folk Club at The Bridge, Shortwood, Bristol, with his (often unplayed) Bodhran, drinks Doom Bar Bitter
and sings The Laird of The Dainty Doonby, Chevaliers de la table ronde ("... ici gît le roi des buveurs...") and The Transplant Squad ("... everyone applaud ...").
Oh Simon and his lady they got into a fecht He wadnae go bell-ringing but that was all richt 'Cos he'd go down tae the Bridge on a Friday nicht And ask for a pint of Doombar He'd sit down by the table that wasnae varry lang And sit upon a chair that wasnae varry strang And he'd listen to the singers whose notes all came out wrang As he sipped at his pint of Doombar His bodhran he was playing but it gave a dull thud So he tuned it up so carefully but still it was nae good So he treated the dry skin like a bodhran player should By giving it a drop of Doombar Now Simon he received such rapturous applause The last line of his song demanded it of course As the clapping died away he headed for the doors To get another pint of Doombar Now we havnae seen oor Simon for twa weeks or mair We telephoned his work but he wasnae there He's lying in his bed with his belly unco' sair Since he sank three pints of dodgy Doombar To the hospital he went as an emergency They decided right away on an ECG It was either that or they'd be saying "Ici gît The buveur of the dodgy Doombar"