The Old War Vet In the Pub

This fire warms me, every bit of my soul, Down at my regular local. Sitting alone, all the thoughts in my head, To ponder before they're made vocal. And the menu for the night on the old chalk board, Hot pasta, soup, oysters or a steak. They even have treats for after the meal, A meringue, ice cream or cheese cake. Soft music wafts throughout the whole place, Past pokies, dim lights, and horse races. And of course, as the place fills with people from work, It fills with the regular faces. I sit in this seat, same time every day, Just an old war vet of a male. It's here i feel safe, my family of friends, Sitting quietly just drinking my ale.