“Birthday Hop”
¶ 1
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I’ve arrived at the football
For my birthday treat
It might only be Czech Third Division
But a Friday night game you can’t beat.
Running far too early
So nip into the bar
Talk about a timewarp
A nicotine fug of tar.
Everyone poisoning me
With their smelly smoke
To think I only dived in
For a small bottle of coke.
I’m sat here in the clubhouse
Drinking the symbol of the free West
Inhaling a cloud of Marlboro
Puting my health to the test.
Can’t really complain
As I’m not on the booze
Compared to my alkie days
I’ve nothing to lose.
It’s my forty eighth birthday
And I’m still alive
With Slavia Kromeriz being
Ground six hundred and thirty five.
¶ 2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 Dulwich Poet 24th October 2014
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