you could se a blue was brewing as they eyed each other 
off
and the tension only mounted when snakey won the toss
"you break" he said to lofty as he chucked across the 
cue
and the tension in the pub just grew and grew 
"I'll break alright" said lofty as he snapped the cue 
in half, flung it back at snake and said "here shove 
this up your arse"
"me Nana give me that" said snakey "mate your fuckin 
gone"
and the feather brain championship was on.

it was the front-bar- featherbrain, non title fight, 
two bloke the size of buffaloes, big but not too bright 
and no one gave two knobs of goatshit who was wrong or 
right at the front-bar-featherbrain, non title fight.

no one seemed to know too much about their pedigree, in 
that sort of place you didn't ask them sort of things, 
they say lofty's from the top end he was ugly, tough 
and mean, used a welders wire brush to scrub his teeth. 
And snake was just plain ugly where he came from no one 
knew, reckon Rambo would have shit himself if snakey 
told him to
and together they weighed half a ton in singlet shorts 
and thongs, there was no cunt home but all the lights 
were on.

the breeze near knocked me over when snake threw the 
opening punch.

it seemed to come from nowhere i just heard this 
sickening crunch, Ithought if any bastard lives through 
that they're pretty fuckin good, was like a railway 
peddlers hammer splitting wood.

it slammed lofty against the eightball table,flipped it 
on it's edge but he just casually got up walked around 
then ripped off all the legs, then one by one he 
smashed the cunts across snakeys ugly head, if brain 
weren't so well padded he'd be dead.

but snake just shook his skull, blinked a bit, and slowly 
looked around, then chucked a right that would have 
knocked the war memorial down and the force of it sent 
lofty flying, crashing through the wall, now theres a 
doorway where there wern't one there befor.

he landed arse up in the shithouse, with his feet up in 
the air with bricks and shit and broken glass and paper 
every where, n caked in that and crap he ripped the 
dunny off the wall and armed with that and fuckall 
brains, went back for more.

He slammed that dunny over snakeys head shattering it to 
bits, peppering him with porcelain and splattering him 
with shit, and there were teeth amongst the muck and 
shit, who's they were you couldn't tell, but it looked 
like lofty lost an ear as well.
and snakes right eye was swollen shut from where
he'd copped one hard, fair dinkum mate it looked
as black as ernie dingo's arse. 
But with all the pieces missing and with all the blood 
and gore, they wern't as fuckin ugly as before.

there was flesh and hair and skin and bone and blood 
splashed on the walls and them two bastards wallowing 
in it rollin cross the floor, and the publican just 
scratched his balls, wonderin, lookin round, should he 
clean the bastard up or burn it down?

most blues you see turn out to be a win or loss or 
draw, but fucked if ive seen both opponents lose a 
fight before 
and I heard snakey say to lofty as they crawled towards 
the bar "fuck the snooker, wanna game of darts?"

it was the front-bar- featherbrain, non title fight, 
two bloke the size of buffaloes, big but not too bright 
and no one gave two knobs of goatshit who was wrong or 
right at the front-bar-featherbrain, non title fight.

it was the front-bar- featherbrain, non title fight, 
two bloke the size of buffaloes, big but not too bright 
and no one gave two knobs of goatshit who was wrong or 
right at the front-bar-featherbrain, non title fight.

it was the front-bar- featherbrain, non title fight, 
two bloke the size of buffaloes, big but not too bright 
and no one gave two knobs of goatshit who was wrong or 
right at the front-bar-featherbrain, non title fight.