Better think awhile
Or I may never think again.
If this were the last day of your life, my friend
Tell me, what do you think you would do then?
Stand up to the blow that fate has struck upon you
Make the most of all you still have coming to you.
Lay down on the ground and let the tears run from you
Crying to the grass and trees and heaven finally on your knees
Let me live again, let life come find me wanting.
Spring must strike again against the shield of winter.
Let me feel once more the arms of love surround me
Telling me the dangerâs past. I need not fear the icy blast again
Why Iâd stand up to the blow of course old friend, what else have you left at that stage, let dignity be the last to go because it will be how youâll be remembered, with dignity, always a comfort for those loved ones who remain behind, and itâs hardest for them after all.
stand up and enjoy yet another new blow
it wonât be the last where ever you go
cryings just for sissy and weeps
just best foot of faith and then take the leap
you think this is the best you can score?
No thereâs more and thereâs more and thereâs more and thereâs more
the protons are all packed in your favor
so get on winged horse and go search for your saviour?
itâs us who are sad left holding the baby
just wondering whenâs our turn
next week, next month maybe?
just lets have a wake and drown all our sorrows
and hope when you wake there ainât no tomorrows!
One must be careful when choosing a partner for life, or is there such a thing anymore as two people committing themselves to each other for life?
Some girls are nice and others are cows
So be care lads when taking your vows
She may be Gods gift in your eyes
The baker of all your favourite pies
But pay no heed to your lust or your belly
Or how she presents her custard and jelly
Think of the days and the years ahead
When your out in the cold and sheâs still in bed
Sweatinâ and workinâ your whole life away
When all that she wants is your weekly pay.
Two bears working on a building site sneak off for a pint at lunchtime, when they get back their two pickaxes are gone so they report the loss to the foreman âOh didnât I tell ye lads? Todays the day the teddy bears have their picks nickedâ
Iâm gettinâ worse in me old age.
There was a song an old lad used to sing many years ago, I searched everywhere for it and canât find it, not even sure of the name of it, maybe he made it up himself who knows heâs long gone now. I can only remember bits of it. Now this is a very old song and times were different then, itâs not intended to offend the fair sex in any way. Hereâs the bit I remember for posterity, donât know why I bother, what has posterity ever done for me?;-)
Whatâs the use of having a wife to keep her all your life
Dressing up for ages, giving her all your wages
A shilling a week for powder, a shilling a week for paint
Sixpence with of Epsom salts in case she takes a faint
With the head of her hair stuck on a chair, and then she has the cheek
To ask you for your wages at fifty bob a week.
The wages will give you a clue how old that is, not to mention meself.
When the better half got to 45 years old, she said Spitty, I have this uncontrollable urge to help young mothers to be, to give birth. I said Spittiess, get a grip, this is just a Midwife Crisis.
Weâre going down the pan again folks.
I was very upset yesterday at lunchtime, my best friend was sitting up at the bar lowering whiskey after whiskey, I know it doesnât agree with him and told him so, he just laughed a silly laugh, shrugged me off and continued drinking. It was useless so I asked him what was the reason for this binge, âMy wife just ran off with my best friendâ says he. âBut hang on a minute Charlie, Iâm your best friendâ âNot anymore your not⊠he isâ he laughed.
No time nor inclination, a sad state of affairs exists
There are so many enigmas, turns and twists
Seems the World is controlled by a faceless few
You never see them but they always see you
Governed by imbeciles from the greedy gene pool
Compelled to slavery by the moguls who rule
Generations have come and gone a thousand fold
Yet nothing changes and the same lies we are told. Mars Barr.
Mary had a Little Lamb
Then a juicy leg of Pork
She butchered both beasts by herself
With a Taser and Pitch Fork
Oh Mary what inspired you
Once so gentle and sincere
Was it just a twist of fate
Or were you disenfranchised
By King Lear
Thereâs nothing like Maryâs lamb chops for bringing a man back down to earth Spitty.
âYeh load sixteen ton and whata get, another day older and deeper in debtâ Not to worry Pug, it wonât last forever.
I love looking at BBCâs âFlog itâ. Today they had some old Rococo chairs, and very funny looking they were too, that Rococo guy sure was a real top class clown in his day.
I have said on many occasions that I have great admiration and respect for writers, such a lonely and thought provoking job, and those who become published and reap the rewards of their labours deserve every bit of it.
I was just looking at the TV the other night and they were on about the writer Arthur Ransomeâs âSwallows and Amazonsâ I loved that book, anyway itâs based a lot on Mr. Ransomeâs childhood, Ransome said about the book, and I love this expression from writers âThe book practically wrote itselfâ, now when a writer says that he really has the talent and heâs just showing off as in âAw shucks folks it wernt nothinââ
I have many memories and events relating to my childhood but havenât the ability nor the inclination to jot them all down the way writers can, so how come these jammy buggers get the books that practically write themselves? I mean Iâm not greedy, if only one book would write itself that would do me, for Gods sake thatâs not much to ask for is it? I can visualise it now, the keyboard going 100 words a minute as I set up the printer and relax in me armchair watching, sheer bliss.
