Daniel’s in the rocks, and, then, this storyteller told a most exceptionally upright stood tale

Of outlandishly inclined debauchery and a side order of baby Guinness to meet his mind’s eye by the festooned middle

These people sit and witness his wonderfully worked mind, find time to realise why it is that he takes to this particular watering-hole – barb-wire realigned

People and stories and glorious reappraisal – local folk mean the most

Til, he shall be recalled by all, with his font fortified and famously framed right by the pockmarked entrance aisle, where these merry souls propose to lean and whisper his every next word – manky-handed wordsmith dribbles into his next fearless beer, steers his intrepid looking glass exterior at a most tantalised skirt ladder

And unrequited love will hurt like a hundred harpoons through the lower part of the heart – metaphorical like only he knows, can’t climb won’t climb only in his mind

It always rhymes, because his reasoning is simply delicious