Drinking With Tood
Drinking with Tood at StGeorge…
Lets drink to ole Tood Taylor,
who was full of it,
Prisoner of the Japanese,
had the scours just a bit,
So the Jap’s they had him a cooking ,
And the extra care he took ,
To help out with the flavour,
Squatting over the stew, the cook,
Said they thrived on his input,
It’s a bloody wonder,
cos he was sick, so crook.
then...
About as drunk as 40 cats,
We staggered from this bar,
Ole man said “that’s the mongrel get him,”
Whistleing upper cut, caused some stars,
He’d raped our old Grannie, Win,
And here he was, oh yeah,
Punched into air, his knees touched chin,
I know cos I was there,
Ole man wanted to hang him,
but we didn’t have a rope,
so he flogged an bashed the bludger,
as the Baird was sure to know it,
So we fell into the old tilly,
And then we staggered home,
Slept like the dead, King Billy,
An so I wrote this poem……..Don Johnson
Yes in the St George hotel getting paraletic, then righting wrongs on the footpath,
the Police didn't get the Baird, family said it didn't happen, and she died soon after.
Copyright © Don Johnson | Year Posted 2012
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