An ode to Lizard Lounge: Gone but never forgotten

So goodnight sweet prince, my one true love,

Our Bristol nightclub, gifted from above.

For twenty years you stood there, cheap and unabashed,

Now management has decreed, your legacy to be trashed.

‘Lizard’ is no more; ‘Clifton Lounge’ is here to stay,

A gentrified Bristol nightmare, the new order of the day.

Out with the old, in with the new, ‘the times are changin’ oh how true,

But permit me a burst of nostalgia before we must say adieu.

For it was in that club that memories were made,

Hearts were broken and love was displayed.

Between wide eyed freshers, whose future was bright.

And battle-hardened third years, sharking each Sports Night.

There was drinking and dancing and the odd punch up too,

With an occasional eviction from the gentleman’s loo,

Where bonhomie abounded and goodwill was all around,

Until you got mosh pitted and fell flat on the ground.

The costumes would vary, but the music never changed,

With a cheesy tunes playlist that was always prearranged.

A club where the men were stickier than the floor,

And the AC Milan guy ruled the cloakroom door.

'Stacy's Mom', 'Chelsea Dagger' and of course 'Mr Brightside' as well,

All would be playing in this mid noughties hell,

As toffee vodka shots were gulped down your lovebitten neck,

Turning your sober mind into an alcoholic train wreck.

There'd be stripping and shouting and an inevitable chunder,

And a bouncer appearing , his face full of thunder.

The red walls had lizards, the sofas had history,

Whilst the odd suspect smells were ones full of mystery.

Now it's goodbye to all that, hello to all this,

As we cautiously approach this new gentrified abyss,

But before we say bye, adieu and goodnight,

Reflect on times there, so golden and bright.

Where it felt like you ruled the world and, if you didn’t, their loss,

Where you felt like royalty, the seshmeister king, a boss.

At a landmark full of character, substance and fun,

The best club in Bristol, surpassed by none.