It goes without saying that when someone dies there is a hole left behind. Especially when you thought that someone would live forever. In this case, the once partner of my late father-in-law. No names, no pack-drill, just a love of life. As witnessed by this non-PC lyric.
It has a tune and a song, but I have neither the technology or the voice to give it its true worth. Be thankful:
Outside a lunatic asylum
I was picking up stones
Along came a man and he said to me
How much a week do you get for doing that?
“Thirty bob.” I cried
He looked at me and shook his head
And this is what he cried
Come inside, you silly bugger, come inside!
I thought you had more sense
Working for a living? Take my tip,
Act bloody silly and become a lunatic!
For you get your meals regular
And a couple of suits beside
Thirty bob a week and your wife and kids to keep
Come inside you silly bugger, come inside!”
Sleep peacefully Muriel. Or wake the old devils!