He really hadn’t a goddamn clue what to do
Chewing on that tin-whistle
Adamant on getting this thing just right
Whiskey, up half the night
Destroying his entirely devoted wife’s eardrums
Had to adore him for his enthusiastic nature alone
I remember him way back when
From our time together weathering a football storm each ‘n’ every Saturday morning
Perhaps I should have heeded this particular warning, not waited for the pen to speak
I really wish my rabbit hadn’t eaten all of his prize-winning flowers