Wankers Like These Poem by Eric Paeplow

Pon leaving school at the age of three
I found my way across the sea
Where I found fire and I found death
Where I found friends who wouldn't quit

Then pon leaving them behind, right where they stood
When my duty was done and as soon as I could
Return from whence I came to this self same spot
To a bunch of old wankers, whom time had forgot

With mullets a plenty and long curly doo's
Wearing Members Only jackets, and old ratty shoes
Telling tiresome jokes, while drinking their beer
And the way that they dressed, you'd think they were …

Yet as time passes by, as time passes on
These guys I call friends, are all that I've got
For money nor stuff, can replace what I've seen
Cause life would be boring, without wankers like these