I said goodbye to my
brother, not long before he died I wasn’t there to bury him, but ne’er the less I cried They carried out his coffin, my brothers, without me They say two hundred people watched, I wasn’t there to see We argued more than once, his temper worse than mine But I used to look after him, till he was nearly nine In teenage years, our roles reversed, though I didn’t know it then In truth, he was watching over me, since he was nine or ten Though he outgrew me but little, he was never short of heart And if ever I landed in a fight, he was there to take my part There were many times in later years, when I was out on a limb Those were the times when I wished once more, that I could call on him. He liked a pint, as Paddys do, and to sing and hear a song He got into a row or two, but didn’t do much wrong If there’s a life on the other side, as he believed he’d see Then he’s somewhere out there looking in, and looking after me. Dabbler |
20/05/2009