This is the yarn he told me As we sat in Casey’s Bar, That Rooshun mug who scammed from… In the Land of the Crimson Star; That Soviet guy with the single e…
Clorinda met me on the way As I came from the train; Her face was anything but gay, In fact, suggested pain. “Oh hubby, hubby dear!” she cried,
I have done with love and lust, I reck not for gold or fame; I await familiar dust These frail fingers to reclaim: Not for me the tiger flame.
‘Twas in a village in Lorraine Whose name I quite forget, I found I needfully was fain To buy a serviette. I sought a shop wherein they sell
He was our leader and our guide; He was our saviour and our star. We walked in friendship by his sid… Yet set him where our heroes are. He taught disdain of fame and weal…
In youth I longed to paint The loveliness I saw; And yet by dire constraint I had to study Law. But now all that is past,
“Flowers, only flowers—bring me da… Blossoms for forgetfulness,” that… So we sacked our gardens, violets… Lilies white and bluebells laid we… Soft his pale hands touched them,…
The night before I left Milan A mob jammed the Cathedral Square… And high the tide of passion ran As politics befouled the air. A seething hell of human strife,
A mattock high he swung; I watched him at his toil; With never gulp of lung He gashed the ruddy soil. Thought I, I’d give my wealth
Clemenceau His frown brought terror to his fo… But now in twilight of his days The pure perfection of a rose Can kindle rapture in his gaze.
Because my overcoat’s in pawn, I choose to take my glass Within a little bistro on The rue du Montparnasse; The dusty bins with bottles shine,
I’ve made my Will. I don’t believ… In luxury and wealth; And to those loving ones who griev… My age and frailing health I give the meed to soothe their wa…
Poets may praise a wattle thatch Doubtfully waterproof; Let me uplift my lowly latch Beneath a rose—tiled roof. Let it be gay and rich in hue,
I’m just an ordinary chap Who comes home to his tea, And mostly I don’t care a rap What people think of me; I do my job and take my pay,
I never thought that Bill could s… A proper prayer; 'Twas more in his hard—bitten way To cuss and swear; Yet came the night when Baby Ted