Oi, mates! Just one week till our gig! It’s a full moon, perfect for raisin’ hell!
So come on, have a bloody good shout, and scream along with me, ya lot!
Oi, mates! Just 14 days till we meet! I picture your faces every time I’m screamin’ at rehearsal. Ain’t that a lovely thought, eh?
We’ve got three brand-new tunes for ya! We’ll have ya dancin’ yer arses off, so get ready, yeah?
Waitin’ long, are ya? Come off it, mate. We ain’t factory goods. Can’t churn out gigs like machines. We play when we feel like it, and turn away when we don’t. This ain’t a job, mate. We love what we do, so every chance means somethin’.
You can’t trust that old cow we voted in. Plays the rock fan, but doesn't give a toss about working class folk—just a proper self-obsessed narcissist. Andy playing The Smiths, now that’s a bloke you can actually put your faith in, innit?
Alright, geezers? The next gig's almost locked in, innit? We'll break the news proper soon. It’s bloody boiling heat every day, but it’ll be cooling down by the time we catch you lot again. Hold tight, me old china plates!