Late at night when I was young
And Maccas and HJs hadn't begun
A night out with a few drinks down
With mates we would go into town
And decide on a local deliciousy
To the Railway Station pie cart we'd see
To taste a pie floater at the side of the road
It was thick pea soup with a square pie float mode
It would seem the only time we had a hankering
For this food was when it was mate-ship and drinking.
© Paul Warren Poetry
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