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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


  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.

  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.