The Fighting Cocks

I used to work for a brewery, one pint a day,
I wasn't rolling barrels, designing pubs so they say,
single guys got two dozen bottles a month's supply,
marrieds four dozen, presumably couldn't leave the wife dry.

'Hold my horse young man, whilst I frequent yon tavern,'
perhaps I'II find myself a serving wench with buttocks,
that I may pinch whilst I quaff numerous beverages,
even Master Cromwell passed by with some roundheads.

My local was King Henry V111, a 'seymour' behind the bar,
couldn't provide him with a son, perhaps I'll be an avatar,
King Henry 1X could have sailed his dad's barge at Richmond,
and then hunted the deer of which his father was so fond.

We sit at Richmond by the river, bought a car from 'Cinch,'
couldn't resist giving a passing barmaids buttocks a pinch.