Curse of the Twenty Two
Curse of the twenty two
Ole Con he was a Yeoman at bloody El Alamein,
And he lifted out the mines where lead fell like bloody rain,
Driven sort of crazy, with death buzzing all around,
And the butcher shop of blood an guts, sort-of made him friggin frown,
Bronco Don had earmarked Bally Watson,
after a fight at the bar,
Put a bullet through his earhole ,
So he left the town hurrah,
And the coppers couldn’t find,
A witless witness, bloody now,
cOs they thought ole Johnson,
might get the word of “top-off” any how?
{Aussie, Police spy or dobber}
Con he did borrow the same rifle,
That earmarked Bally’s ear,
And his son was using it the rifle,
To shoot Rabbit, eat him here,
Rolled up in his swag ole twenty two went off,
As the swag it hit the ground,
Shot the boy dead .22 lead,
Bloody sadness all around,
Ole Con came racing up the stairs,
Plane crash very near,
Four Dirran. Men, were burning when,
The word old Don did hear,
At a hundred miles an hour he drove,
to save the lives of none,
The police said they are bloody dead,
Though he battled the flames yes some,
Four funerals we all went ,
Our friends were surely dead
Four young men to heaven sent,
Our hearts had the weight of lead,
So I swapped it away, the bad luck gun,
Ole Nodder Smith he got it,
He built a special case for that one,
The curse of the twenty two, on-nit…
Don Johnson
Copyright © Don Johnson | Year Posted 2013
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