Saturday, 24 November 2007


There was the time
My old gran said
When our uncle Bill had died.
He settled up
He paid the fare
And went for his last ride.

He put the horse before the cart
The family often said
To announce the very day
That you thought you would be dead

Now I was always skeptical
At the family legend
Concerning our own demise
It seems we see it coming
And so it’s no surprise

The Walkers had the knack it went
To see the very hour
Of when God came a callin’
It was within their power

So uncle Bill
A kindly soul
A quiet sort of bloke
Said in the end
When all was done
That he’d go up in smoke

He made a will
He picked the plot
He told my gran that he was going
He laid in beer
He swore he’s drink the lot
And announced the party he was throwin’

We had a few drinks
Gran said her goodbyes
It was a strange sort of BBQ
The corpse wore thongs
Turning sangers with his tongs
And drank so much we thought he’s spew

Old Bill was almost legless
As the party was in full swing
He’d told his few remaining jokes
And then he started to sing

They say it was the fat that killed him
Others say it was the drink
But when the fire truck had finished
And we’d all had time to think
We knew Old Bill had warned us
He told us all that day
The flames of hell would get him
But not through Bryant and May
Apparently the fireman said
The flames had caught the table
And when Bill tried to put them out
He used his black label
How he was right
Or what he saw
I will never know
But I will never forget his very last words
Here we go, here we go, here we go.

And when I decide to leave
And somehow I know the date
I’ll put my fingers in my ears
And hope death is running late

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