A Blokey Sort Of A Bloke
What hair he has left it is silvery gray
And surely he has known a far better day
And yet he works hard and he drinks every night
And when he gets drunk he does not look for fight.
Though he has not seen him now for a few years
He talks of his son when he's had a few beers
His wife she left him a few years ago
And where she lives now he does not care or know.
Though not violent to her and her he never did beat
And in anyway her he did not mistreat
She grew tired of his drinking and him coming home late
And a better life for herself she did create.
A local identity well liked and well known
And at drinking with men half of his age he can hold his own
He works hard and drinks hard and he can laugh at a joke
The type some refer to as a blokey sort of a bloke.
He drinks hard by night and he works hard by day
And for him no such a thing as an easy pay
His fondness of alcohol cost him his wife
She found a new man and she found a new life.
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(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
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