Thursday, April 29, 2010


The son of the patriarchal father the mantle of dad he does don
And in his sons and their sons patriarchy will live on
And though the praises of patriarchy many may sing
What it stands for to say the least is not a good thing
In patriarchal societies war is glorified
As well as love of Flag of Country and National pride
Such things that to war always does seem to lead
Of peace loving people we seldom do hear of or read
Far too many patriarchal societies in the World of today
We'd be better offf without them is all I can say
Far too many patriarchs in every town
Who glorify war and keep women down
Patriarchs are not rare they do live everywhere
There are millions of them in the big World out there.

A Happy Person Always Nice To Meet

Time ticking on old age of you ahead
Enjoy yourself for you'll be forever dead
Life is too short for worry and for stress
Such only barriers to happiness
You ought to make the most of every day
Enjoy yourself and laugh your cares away
The happy people on the streets of town
Spread happiness as they walk up and down
The happy one the seeds of joy does sow
But the grumpy one few seem to wish to know
The one who has a happy smiling face
In any company not out of place
A happy person always nice to meet
Spreading the gift of joy whilst walking on the street.

Though I Come From A Land

Though I come from a land in the North Sea
Where I do live is always home to me
My life journey has me far south of my birthplace
Where nowadays mine might be a stranger's face
A stranger where my life's journey began
Where from a boy I grew into a man
Some twenty four years and Springs have gone by
Since I last heard the lark sing in an Irish sky
The past is now a fading memory
And time ticks on it did not wait for me
And though the friends of my youth I've not seen for many a day
The present is all that does matter anyway
I live far south of the silver tongued rill
That flows to the river from the high field by the hill.

The Ageing Fellow Bill

My mum would not be proud of me were she alive today
I would not be her idea of a success that's what Bill Allob say
I was the only child she had dad died when I was six months old
He was a good man mum did say though his life story untold
My mum would not be proud of me to see me drinking booze
'Tis my fault I am the way I am I live the way I choose
Mum raised me as good as she could for me she did her best
But what it takes to be a life's success I sadly failed the test
Mum died when I was a young man I had just turned twenty three
To see me homeless and on the grog she would not be proud of me
I am tired of living on the streets and tired of sleeping rough
For one in his fifty ninth year that is hardly good enough
He may be homeless and hungry but of grog he drinks his fill
My mum would not be proud of me says the ageing fellow Bill.