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First day on the job, an apprentice with no clue Put with some old boy, Norman Collins his name been plumbing everywhere, from Watford to Timbuktu Picked me up in his Vauxhall Belmont, a fading sun caught red telling me tales of his dinner, roadkill on the hob His wife cooked him these meals, I think he must be mad Driving out in the sticks, a job for a pal, over near the village of Sarrett A blob in the road, dead pigeon or badger, well he's not eating that would have been different if it were something else he said, as he actually fancied a bit of rabbit I didn't realise what a good bloke he was until a few days with this old codger My main boss was a grumpy sod, never paid me till he had some Looking back now, I miss that man, who told me tales of old times and tomfoolery I used to be a wrestler young John, back in the days of the local funfair Took on any Herbert who thought he was keen, and showed them the tent exit From **** McManus to Jackie Pallo, bring them on son, I didn't really care He locked me in a toilet one day, inside somebody’s house Let me out I cried, for a good 4 hours, he ignored my every shout For he couldn’t care less and that’s what I miss, a soul who just larked about For they seem dead in this day and age where everything is done by the book Don’t upset the man over there, do you know who he is, he’s the King and you’re just a Rook As they don’t seem to exist anymore, these men who walk on Gods seven sins Have a laugh, have joke, as life’s too short I miss old Norman Collins JJB
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Jun 13, 2018
Jun 13, 2018 at 3:58 PM UTC
Norman Collins
First day on the job, an apprentice with no clue Put with some old boy, Norman Collins his name been plumbing everywhere, from Watford to Timbuktu Picked me up in his Vauxhall Belmont, a fading sun caught red telling me tales of his dinner, roadkill on the hob His wife cooked him these meals, I think he must be mad Driving out in the sticks, a job for a pal, over near the village of Sarrett A blob in the road, dead pigeon or badger, well he's not eating that would have been different if it were something else he said, as he actually fancied a bit of rabbit I didn't realise what a good bloke he was until a few days with this old codger My main boss was a grumpy sod, never paid me till he had some Looking back now, I miss that man, who told me tales of old times and tomfoolery I used to be a wrestler young John, back in the days of the local funfair Took on any Herbert who thought he was keen, and showed them the tent exit From **** McManus to Jackie Pallo, bring them on son, I didn't really care He locked me in a toilet one day, inside somebody’s house Let me out I cried, for a good 4 hours, he ignored my every shout For he couldn’t care less and that’s what I miss, a soul who just larked about For they seem dead in this day and age where everything is done by the book Don’t upset the man over there, do you know who he is, he’s the King and you’re just a Rook As they don’t seem to exist anymore, these men who walk on Gods seven sins Have a laugh, have joke, as life’s too short I miss old Norman Collins JJB
john-bartholomew
Written by
45/M/Cambridge
Jun 13, 2018
Jun 13, 2018 at 3:58 PM UTC
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