ramblings and things
Men of my generation
Just arent supposed to cry
So I’m standing here
With just sightly moist eye
For more than fifty years
You were y friend
Friendship overcoming
Most things in the end.
But not this time
Thanks to foolish pride;
Neither ableto see things
From the other one’s side.
Now I’m standing here
For old time’s sake
Booted and suited
For your funeral and wake,
And I’ll stand by your box
And whisper your name:
If it were me
You’d do the same.
Goodbye my old mate
Since squaddie days,
Always remembered for
Your eccentric ways
Now its off to the wake
To chew thr fat
Old squaddie mates
Are pretty good at that.
But for a while
We'll just sit and think
As on the table ubtouched
Stands the Absent Friends Drink
And when it’s time
To be be on our way
We’ll wonder who’ll be missing
At our next funeral day.
And as men of our generation
Just aren’t supposed to cry
We’ll all shake hands
With just sightly moist eye
Wake 2