Now, I'm an unkempt idiot
With my unarranged hair
And I talk to any person
Who just happens to be there.
Some of them ignore me
But most of them join in
When they see my smiling face
And big, gormless daft grin.
Sometime it's just a second
Sometimes a minute or two
But I really do like talking
With those folk passing through.
Keep your Facebook and Twitter
Or your smart new mobile phone
And those methods of converse
Carried our on your own.
Give me the real joy of
A face to face talk
Preferably during a long
Sunny countryside walk.
And a coffee or a pint
At some little wayside inn
And I can talk for England with
My big, daft and gormless grin.
They're not surfing the internet
On their pad or mobile phone
They're talking or keyboard typing
In a sad lonely world of their own.
Unkempt idiots like me keep on
Trying and trying and trying but
A sad fact of modern life is
Face to face conversation is dying
