Love Fell In A Bottle.

kevin browne

The engines were empty
The barrels were full
My old grandad in Dublin
Still, though he was at school
As he stood up
He stood up to fall
Their hearts were in music
As the penny whistle played
Hearts spoke to the railroads
Men walked through to the streets
They should surely have stayed
Some men got lonely
some women the sack
Stoned drunk on a bar stool
They acted by playing a fool
They tried drinking another
But fell on their backs
Love fell in a bottle
An empty bottle at that
Whiskey and Rum kissed
Vodka and a Martini will do
The boys sat beside old lovers
With twins coming their way
Will they miss a marriage or two?
Stepped over some bodies
Stepped over some more
Wrote a new love song
And called out for you
Called it just one for the road
Another bar job to do
Turn this record over
Before it gets old.

  • Author: kingkev101 (Pseudonym) (Offline Offline)
  • Published: September 26th, 2018 03:35
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 3
Get a free collection of Classic Poetry ↓

Receive the ebook in seconds 50 poems from 50 different authors


Comments +

Comments1

  • dusk arising

    An old record well played. Lots of us have the old country in our blood and your words certainly resonate with my heritage.
    I enjoyed reading you today.

    • kevin browne

      Thank you, dusk arising, Glad, some of your heritage is the same as mine then. How do you relate ti Irland then if you don't mind me asking? My mother is English, Father Scottish and his father was Irish. They certainly are spread across the globe. PS, sorry I took ages to reply.

      • dusk arising

        My heritage, irish on my mothers side, english father, i was born in scotland but my excuse is that my mum was there at the time and i needed her company.
        The Irishman traditionally known for manual work, the navvy. My father used to quip when seeing manual workers leaning on their shovels, 'an irishman gets more muck on his boots than an englishman gets on his shovel'.



      To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.