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Friday Poetry Corner ... Expat Blues

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    Friday Poetry Corner ... Expat Blues

    Welcome back my Friends to the show that never ends.

    Nations, Wars, Politicans,contracts may come and go but theres always the Friday Poetry Corner, I thought I would dedicate this to Expat and all the other electronic nomads on this board ...




    The Men That Don't Fit In


    There's a race of men that don't fit in,
    A race that can't stay still;

    So they break the hearts of kith and kin,
    And they roam the world at will.

    They range the field and they rove the flood,
    And they climb the mountain's crest;
    Theirs is the curse of the gypsy blood,
    And they don't know how to rest.

    If they just went straight they might go far;
    They are strong and brave and true;

    But they're always tired of the things that are,
    And they want the strange and new.

    They say: "Could I find my proper groove,
    What a deep mark I would make!"
    So they chop and change, and each fresh move
    Is only a fresh mistake.

    And each forgets, as he strips and runs
    With a brilliant, fitful pace,

    It's the steady, quiet, plodding ones
    Who win in the lifelong race.

    And each forgets that his youth has fled,
    Forgets that his prime is past,

    Till he stands one day, with a hope that's dead,
    In the glare of the truth at last.

    He has failed, he has failed; he has missed his chance;
    He has just done things by half.

    Life's been a jolly good joke on him,
    And now is the time to laugh.

    Ha, ha! He is one of the Legion Lost;
    He was never meant to win;

    He's a rolling stone, and it's bred in the bone;
    He's a man who won't fit in.

    Robert Service
    Last edited by AlfredJPruffock; 28 July 2006, 10:59.

    #2
    TGIF....

    Wanna tell you a story,
    About the house-man blues
    I come home one Friday,
    Had to tell the landlady I'd-a lost my job
    She said that don't confront me,
    Long as I get my money next Friday
    Now next Friday come I didn't get the rent,
    And out the door I went

    So I goes to the landlady,
    I said, "You let me slide?"
    I'll have the rent for you in a month.
    Next I don't know
    So said let me slide it on you know people,
    I notice when I come home in the evening
    She ain't got nothing nice to say to me,
    But for five year she was so nice
    Loh' she was lovy-dovy,
    I come home one particular evening
    The landlady said, "You got the rent money yet?",
    I said, "No, can't find no job"
    Therefore I ain't got no money to pay the rent
    She said "I don't believe you're tryin' to find no job"
    Said "I seen you today you was standin' on a corner,
    Leaning up against a post"
    I said "But I'm tired, I've been walkin' all day"
    She said "That don't confront me,
    Long as I get my money next Friday"
    Now next Friday come I didn't have the rent,
    And out the door I went

    So I go down the streets,
    Down to my good friend's house
    I said "Look man I'm outdoors you know,
    Can I stay with you maybe a couple days?"
    He said "Let me go and ask my wife"
    He come out of the house,
    I could see it in his face
    I know that was no
    He said "I don't know man, ah she kinda funny, you know"
    I said "I know, everybody funny, now you funny too"
    So I go back home
    I tell the landlady I got a job, I'm gonna pay the rent
    She said "Yeah?" I said "Oh yeah"
    And then she was so nice,
    Loh' she was lovy-dovy
    So I go in my room, pack up my things and I go,
    I slip on out the back door and down the streets I go
    She a-howlin' about the front rent, she'll be lucky to get any back rent,
    She ain't gonna get none of it
    So I stop in the local bar you know people,
    I go to the bar, I ring my coat, I call the bartender
    Said "Look man, come down here", he got down there
    So what you want?

    One bourbon, one scotch, one beer
    Well I ain't seen my baby since I don't know when,
    I've been drinking bourbon, whiskey, scotch and gin
    Gonna get high man I'm gonna get loose,
    Need me a triple shot of that juice
    Gonna get drunk don't you have no fear
    I want one bourbon, one scotch and one beer
    One bourbon, one scotch, one beer

    But I'm sitting now at the bar,
    I'm getting drunk, I'm feelin' mellow
    I'm drinkin' bourbon, I'm drinkin' scotch, I'm drinkin' beer
    Looked down the bar, here come the bartender
    I said "Look man, come down here"
    So what you want?

    One bourbon, one scotch, one beer
    No I ain't seen my baby since the night before last,
    Gotta get a drink man I'm gonna get gassed
    Gonna get high man I ain't had enough,
    Need me a triple shot of that stuff
    Gonna get drunk won't you listen right here,
    I want one bourbon, one shot and one beer
    One bourbon, one scotch, one beer

    Now by this time I'm plenty high,
    You know when your mouth a-getting dry you're plenty high
    Looked down the bar I say to my bartender
    I said "Look man, come down here", he got down there
    So what you want this time?
    I said "Look man, a-what time is it?"
    He said "The clock on the wall say three o'clock
    Last call for alcohol, so what you need?"

    One bourbon, one scotch, one beer
    No I ain't seen my baby since a nigh' and a week,
    Gotta get drunk man till I can't even speak
    Gonna get high man listen to me,
    One drink ain't enough Jack you better make it three
    I wanna get drunk I'm gonna make it real clear,
    I want one bourbon, one scotch and one beer
    One bourbon, one scotch, one beer
    Brexit is having a wee in the middle of the room at a house party because nobody is talking to you, and then complaining about the smell.

    Comment


      #3
      Nice one DarmS.

      That reminds of yonks ago when travelling in Thailand I was staying at some grubby wee hotel in Bangkok, the chap next door was this huge fat guy by the name Boston John from the States, he would spend the entire day in his room and the only thing that you would ever hear from him would be a periodical shout to Room Service of

      I wanna Beer ...

      Comment


        #4
        Similar to the Boneman of Benares...
        Brexit is having a wee in the middle of the room at a house party because nobody is talking to you, and then complaining about the smell.

        Comment

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