A fantastic send off for our friend Jack Regan (Dab Hand) today, with the Scarf sung with gusto.
Jack was a fantastic poet and this is just one of his many works. His family have put together his poems in a book (Regans Allergy) and it's a brilliant read!
Past it, blast it
My birthday blast it, I'm getting past it My eyes are dim and my hips are plastic With my balding head and my street cred dead I've no real reason to get out of bed And I'm bound to say for many a day There's been no cause to stay It comes as a shock, when you're taking stock To find you're the oldest kid on the block I was out on the street When I happened to meet a young girl - She looked a real flirt With spikey hair and a mini-skirt But she gave me a smile and took my arm I thought 'it's my charm - I'm in the mood' But then she helped me Cross over the road My birthday blast it With my swinging gut And big love handles I haven't the puff To blow out my candles I asked my doctor to give me a chance Of a bit of romance But he said 'Not for you, you've had all your fun Viagra won't do - you'd need half a ton' Then he shoved a camera Down through my mouth And then another - from the south! Then he shook my hand And said 'Goodbye Jack' I thought 'He isn't expecting me back' My birthday blast it I don't want to boast But I've had more than most I'm becoming a cynic They barred me from the Wellman clinic I think that's a bit rough They said I wasn't well enough But the thing that makes me Most regretful I find I'm becoming Quite, er quite.... Oh! Forget it!