Into the realm of no decisions.

Beyond worry or woe, stand lilacs in the dusk.

Beyond the claws of time and the dark magic of the past,

the scent of blossom swells under the

sycamore shade remove yourself from your own mind and enter the moon underwater Oh, grape and grain and slice of lemon and wine,

the moon underwater is here in full ferment.

And rightly so, I am John Robbins, the landlord of this sacred house.

It really is very sacred in its waterings and its furnishings.

And into this pub of the mind, we invite guests every week to kit out their dream pub, which then exists in a

counter realm within this, the correct realm, that they can then take back into the other realm.

And we cannot wait to welcome this week's guest, but before then, there's much to discuss

with the lovely regular Robin Allender. Hello Robin. Hello, John.

That's very nicely explained the format of the show using the word realm several times in one sentence.

Why don't you pick yourself a tankard from the display hanging above the bar. Which do you fancy?

I'd like a pewter one.

Yeah.

Okay, we've got about eight or nine different pewter ones.

There's one in the shape of a monkey.

Yeah.

There's one with sort of heraldic detailing.

Ah.

There's one depicting sort of Victorian garden scene.

...