Squeaky Wheel Gets The Oil

Written by Neil Robert Herd

My soup is cold my room’s too small my train is late

Is that my main course or just a dirty plate?

I used to wonder, ask myself is it just me?

Who has to turn the tables, spin a protest melody

Chorus

The squeaky wheel gets the oil

no lubrication in a quiet nation

The squeaky wheel gets the oil,

no peace I there’s no grease

The squeaky wheel gets the oil,

no conversation if there’s no libation

A quiet kettle will not boil,

The squeaky wheel gets the oil

Thank God I’m in the bar, I raise my glass and cheer

My pint is genuine, it’s looking bright and clear

I say “bartender, could you fit a dram in here?”

He says “I think there’s space” I say “If that’s the

case, why don’t you fill it up with beer?"

Chorus

The squeaky wheel gets the oil

no lubrication in a quiet nation

The squeaky wheel gets the oil,

no peace I there’s no grease

The squeaky wheel gets the oil,

no conversation if there’s no libation

Pedals crank and the cheques are blank,

the squeaky wheel gets the oil

I think the manager respects a range of views

I read the comment book on any page I choose

I don’t agree with everything I read in there

I’m satisfied somebody wrote enough to care

It’s all gone quiet why is everyone so glum?

We threw a party we said anyone could come

Our bar ran dryer than we ever thought it would

We kept on way part closing time ‘cos we never

understood

Chorus

The squeaky wheel got the oil

The loudest mule drank all the fuel

The squeaky wheel got the oil

Now it’s too dry to cry

The squeaky wheel got the oil,

no rotation, no irrigation

Can’t bank on an empty tank,

as the squeaky wheel

got the oil