As we grow older, our memory sometimes starts to become unreliable, We know that we know certain people, but just who are they?
There’s a bloke I used to know
And I met him years ago
Though I really can’t remember where we met
And I don’t recall his name
But I knew him, just the same
He was the sort of bloke you don’t forget
He had long black curly hair
Or perhaps ‘twas short and fair
And I don’t remember how he earned a crust
But I somehow seem to think
That he used to like a drink
Cos he said his throat was dry as desert dust
He was tall and long and lean
He was savage, he was mean
But maybe, that was someone else again
He could tell a dirty joke
He was just that kind of bloke
And I seem to think he said he came from Spain
Or it could have been from France
I recall that he could dance
The foxtrot and the coronation waltz
I remember him so clear
When we’d sit and have a beer
He couldn’t stand cos one leg, it was false
Or it might have been his arm
I remember he could charm
The pants off any sheila in the place
But, then agen, perhaps
It was him who’d pick up chaps
The sort that wears some lipstick on their face
Ah! The memories, they flow
Of that bloke I used to know
And just like I was sayin’ to me wife
As your days go speeding by
And the years, they seem to fly
There are some blokes you remember all your life
© Brian Langley 27 Jan 2006
