Barry Crocker

On a limb was this lyric etched By leprechaun in rune & sketch.' T'was not bawdy;But sober in tone From this wistful soul Who lived alone To good Saint Patrick he made a plea From the trap of treasure deliver me, In crock & jar I have full trove Yet never am I to leave this grove.' For the wicked witch left me much in gold Upon her death, from a maudlin cold Now I'm being held by the love of greed And could not be pulled free; by the greatest steed.' Yet I've read that God has made a plan That I see regards a woman & man But Leprechauns are a different breed That trace descent from the shamrock seed I'm aware your day is soon to dawn So I plea your help on the coming morn I need a loving sylph in green To lead me in love, to the modern scene.' I repent of my former punk rock days When I followed many a fad & craze Yet I have this idea you can make a case With God above who is full of grace I beseech in hope, I need more faith.' Yet if its not to be, my will I'll brace Let me not languish, though; so folorn... Just an old 'punk-crocker' tired & worn.!