Here is a poem
About an occurrence that happened once in a blue moon
Grab your jeroboam
We'll drink for awhile stop. and then play a tune
Why you ask why not I say why not play a tune, say
Hey
Where've you been past days
I have some wine
Why not spend some time
Do you still drink your white with lime
Such a strange thing to do
Let me pour the glasses
One and two
There
Wait the cigars mise well smoke.'em
At such a celebration such
Yes yes here and missouri we love too much
Sit sit I'll grab them
I think I left them in the tackle box
Or maybe in the top drawer with my socks
I should hope not
You should hope not
Very unpleasant
And they the only ones I got
Such a waste
Ah here I've found them
I left them on the counter top
I wish my mind would stop
Here I've been ramblin on
When you've been gone
All this time
So long
Here take it it's local ya know
Wait stop there again I go
Talk talk
Let me here your story
Of past foreign glories
Of the landscape of sand
In a wartorn land
Just you alone
With rifle in hand
Only,
Well, only if you can
I...I ..wouldn't want to impose
Quite rude of me
Don't you suppose
I'm so sorry
Sit relax
Take that camel off your back
Here I'll hang it on a rack
And you help your self to bed
Hit the sack
Yes yes
We'll talk more tomorrow
Yes in the morning I think
Then we'll drink
Then we'll smoke
Then you can tell me
Over tea
Or wine
Or whisky
What it was like
In a country so risky
So backwards
So blue
So broken
So forgotten

Take a rest sleep for some time
In the morning it'll be "rise and shine on the biscuit line"