Lonely Type

There once was a man; a lonely soul
He had no plans and he had no goal
He walked the empty streets in fear
He took some drugs and drank some beer

One day he found a dirty wallet
And thought it sad there was nothin init
He decided he would to fill it full
So he stole some peas from a shop in Hull

On the third day it began to smell
So he put some perfume in as well
He went to the chippy but he couldn’t pay
You smell of pea, now go array’!

He talked to himself, about money and gold
And thought he’d get some before he got old
So he went to a bank and said 'stick em up'
But he had no gun so they said ‘shut up’!

They found him dead in a foreign land
With a note clasped tight in his bony hand
It said, ‘Life asn’t been too good to me
So being dead ‘s a treat you see’.

© Steve Bentley