The song’s been sung,
The ship has sunk,
The death took him
When he was drunk.
His name was Tom,
He has no home,
He drank too much,
His life was wrong.
When he was born,
His Mom was ‘lone,
So he was hard
To get along.
When it was cold,
He warmed on coal.
Him Little Dirt
His mother called.
When Tom grew up,
He came in pub,
He married a gel,
And found a job.
They might have a son,
His wife got a bun,
But she caught cold.
The wife was gone.
He cried for his wife,
Tom took a knife,
He couldn’t see
No point in life.
But when morning came,
Tom found a new aim
Though still he has
The gravest fame.
So garden he bought,
His wife he forgot,
To plant the roses
He was taught.
A rose with thorn
His life adorned;
The wind had come
And flowers torn.
Unlucky man
With rose’s stem,
It was to much
For him to stand.
So Tom got drunk,
His heart lost spunk,
The death took him,
The song been sung.