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Thursday, 3 February 2011

I cry into my beer...

When my Mama left she left just me and my Dad
I was only 8 years old
Dad was never really one for bringing home the bread
So everything she left had to be sold
Daddy never told me where my mother went
And I don't think he even knew why
All's I remember is he'd come home almost every night
And into his beer he'd cry
He'd never say a word

He didn't speak or work much whilst I was growing up
Me and him we both got thin
I moved out as soon as I could work a job
Just to make life easier on him
Now as it goes you know I don't speak or work much myself
Them apples don't fall far from the tree
I say 'Good Morning' to my boss and I thank him for my cheque
And even though he don't like me
He treats me alright

I save what I earn
I don't drink like Dad
But every now and then when I get really sad
I get me a six-pack
And sit here on my couch
I ain't got no friends so I don't go out

I just sit here
I just sit here and cry into my beer

2 comments:

  1. Lovely that you're back. When are we doing Christmas?
    Oh and one day, probably when I'm drunk, I'll tell you what it feels like when your mum really leaves.

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  2. Your life sounds like "you've got the blues", I don't wish the experience on anyone but it brought out something so beautiful in you.

    My favorite is the one about your boss. I need to thank mine for his paycheck, one last time tomorrow.

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