Sing a song of six-packs
and quickly tell me where
Uncle Jack has gone
drunk but debonair.
He can’t remember where
he left his Philomena
tall and fetching fair.
He wants to find her.
She’s the one
he wants to marry
but he's lost her number
and is now afraid
he may never dance
with her again unless
perhaps in paradise where
she’s waiting, he has heard,
lighting up the brightest star
far from hades where
Jack has a reservation.
He’ll cancel that to dance
with her among the clouds
but this will halt all revelry
for Uncle Jack on earth.
Not even one more six-pack.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem