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JUST AN OLD GUY Slumped in an old shop doorway With a vacant look upon his face Forever to be ridiculed Shamed and disgraced With his clothing all ragged Tattered and torn Always to be looked down on With a pitiful scorn Forever to be remembered For plotting that awful crime Alas his days are numbered He doesn't have much more time Suddenly a small child's voice Breaks my thoughts with a cry "Hey Mister, don't be tight" "Have you gorra penny for me guy?" If you work and do your best You'll get the sack like all the rest But if you laze and bugger about You'll live to see the job right out The work is hard the pay is small So take your time and sod them all Cos when you're dead you'll be forgot So don't try to do the bloody lot Or on your tombstone neatly lacquered These three words 'Just bleedin knackered.' Frank Byrne, Widnes
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Title Annotation:Letters
Publication:Liverpool Echo (Liverpool, England)
Date:Nov 25, 2011
Words:161
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