To drink
Or not to drink
It is a question of taste
A pleasant cuppa
For a song of the sailor
Rhymes on the table
Reflections on forever
I know your love has no measure
Beyond the jealousy I watch from that eye
Is it he that walks by in starry skies
All of these are uncertain
Like my job at Wigan Pier
Will you send me something for earthly me
A student for policing
Or an apprentice for teaching
I have done my duty poorly
As a father figure
At least as malice doth give us
We could cherish the chalice
From the bottom of the drowning sorrows
I had given it my all
It was a well-fashioned foot soldier
In a daring hermit's costume
I died with clothings and old age, fulminating till my last breath