The Last Word of Love
Son, when I am dead
Put no angels at my head
Buy flowers for your girl instead
Son, when my soul has flown
Etch not my age in brass and stone
Write to your love or pickup the 'phone
I will come in a smile or your baby's hand
I will be at the seaside buried in sand
So son when I am read
Remember these little words I said
''Seek the living not the dead
The Ballad of Mary and her Dog Chappie
The Ballad of Mary and Chappie
She was wandering whitehaired clutching her lead
Glassy eyed and appearing in need..
'May I ask the way to Columbine Rd'
She laboured as if she carried a load..
And yet she seemed floating and far away too
the lead was red her coat was blue
And there was something that did not ring true
I thought to ask of her did you lose your dog?
But she seemed almost deaf; as if lost in a fog.
She was hovering gauntly, tall but inclined
drawn in the face and so much on her mind
She turned away and before I could warn her..
She strode along and turned the wrong corner.
I never discovered if she had lost her dog
Columbine Road was a mile long slog
And I followed her quizzically with my eyes
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