When I am out driving my car,
I love my car; it’s a fine old car,
I watch the road ahead,
The road ahead, for potholes ahead,
Irish roads are a disgrace,
It’s a pothole place – a dangerous place!
*
While out walking the street,
On my two feet, my own two feet,
I fell into a pothole big,
Very big – extremely big,
It broke my face, my poor old face,
It’s a shocking disgrace!
*
I wrote to the Council,
And told them this, that I hurt myself,
In a pothole big – extremely big,
They said me, poor old me,
They would sell me the stuff,
The pothole stuff,
So I could fill them in,
The potholes in,
* It’s a funny old world, isn’t it?
I penned the following variation of the song Father and Son, to mark the return of Cat Stevens/Yusuf Islam to the world of music and entertainment.
God bless him.
Father and Son, Part Two – Thirty Years On.
Father:
It’s now time to make a change,
Not relax or take it easy.
You’re grown up, that’s so good,
But there’s still so much to do.
You’ve a wife, and a child,
You settled down, and you married.
I am gone, though I’m gone, I am happy.
I can now recall a time, and admit it wasn’t easy,
To be calm in the turmoil we call youth.
But I have travelled, journeyed on,
To a time, a place we all can reach.
Where our yesterdays and morrows are at peace with today.
Son:
You don’t need to explain; though you’ve gone we are now closer.
Though the story’s the same, we have changed.
We were so caught up in talk it was impossible to listen.
It took me time, now I know I don’t have to go away.
I don’t have to go.
Father:
It’s now time to make change,
Get right on, embrace it.
You’re grown up, that’s so good,
But there’s still so much you can do.
You’ve a wife, and a child,
You settled down, you married.
I am gone, I am gone, but I’m happy.
Son:
No more times, wasted times, hiding truth I knew was deep inside,
It’s good, but even better in sharing.
Yes, they were right, I agree, I’m free to know you and me.
Now I can see and I know I don’t have to go away.
I don’t have to go.
(Optional Extra Verse)
Son:
My Father, you and I, we cannot, must not be kept apart in time,
We’ll soon be rejoined in the heavens.
Where time will be all gone; and thus unshackled from our minds
We’ll all be free, and we’ll know we don’t have to go away.
We won’t have to go.
The Crazymad Writer 