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He was handsome, he was fearless, he was noble, he was tall,
By all accounts, he was the biggest cowboy of them all.
As he rode out upon his horse, so loved and so respected,
The priests and GAA men all bowed down and genuflected.
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For Bertie was a leader who was blessed with strength and vision
And never needed prompting to appear on television.
He had a dream, like all great men, to have a huge erection
That could be seen for miles around in Abbotstown’s direction.
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Now in the land where Bertie ruled, there lived an evil troupe,
A freeloading gang of rustlers, an insane and reckless group,
People hid in fear and dread whenever they rode by,
And warned their children to beware the loathsome FAI.
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Bernard was their leader and he had a heart of stone
And he desired to raise a big erection of his own.
And though there was much muttering from Bernard’s hired hands,
They backed him to the hilt when he presented his demands.
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Now Bertie listened carefully, but after some reflection,
Decided he could not support another man’s erection.
He emptied out his saddlebags upon the barroom floor,
“There’s gold for all!” he shouted, “And I’ll see that you get more!”
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As Bertie went out in the street, there came a mighty roar
As all the varmints dived upon the gold dust on the floor.
As Bernard pulled his 45 and told them to desist,
Miles and Brendan drew their guns and neither bullet missed.
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Bernard, he was buried with two bullets in his chest,
And so his own erection plans were also laid to rest,
No one sighed, no widow cried, no chapel bell was tolled,
For everyone had been entranced by thoughts of Bertie’s gold.
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Bertie was euphoric and he seemed to grow in stature,
Possessing all the qualities of Major, Blair and Thatcher.
The FAI were all on board, there could be no deflection
Away from his great personal aim – the Abbotstown erection.
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But behind this powerful leader, lay a shadow tall and wide,
Who aimed a high and mighty kick at Bertie’s big backside.
“I’ve checked the books,” sweet Mary said, “and after my inspection,
I’m sorry but we can’t afford your fatuous erection.”
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Now Bertie was a mite afraid of Mary’s sensual charms,
Though he had spent some lonely nights lost in her loving arms,
And so he thought it prudent to consult his loyal minion,
So that he might better get another man’s opinion.
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“The gold’s run out,” oul’ Charlie said, “The miners can’t find any.
What good is an erection if you cannot spend a penny?”
When Bertie heard these fateful words, his vision fell apart,
The price, some said, of saddling up the horse behind the cart.
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When Miles and Brendan heard the news, they both were sorely vexed,
And spluttered in their whiskey as they planned what happened next,
They knew that they could not stand up to Bertie in a fight,
Although they felt that they had both been dropped into the shite.
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Now Bertie was a bit harassed, although he was no fool,
And standing in the street, he challenged Brendan to a duel.
Brendan staggered out of the Incompetence Saloon,
As Milo, on the piano, played a melancholy tune.
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Brendan demanded all the gold, but Bertie said he’d none,
Brendan smiled nervously at Bertie’s polished gun.
Inside the Sheriff’s office, Sheriff Croker squirmed with glee,
And, with a glad expression, rubbed his hands expectantly………..