pot luck - 2, 4, 8, 12, 19, 32

like many a fickle harlot
the girl we remembered from childhood
Julie was well thought of
as the beauty of our youth
whose charm doesn't fade
forever etched into copperplate
upon our wicked schemes
of long, late nights -
- hooch and banknotes
we gave our hearts'
to the town we loved
and it caught our favour
by allowing us to live!
oh, blessed Joy!
but then,
is that the door i hear?
a shriek of terror pierces the night air
and the sound of feathers
preened and dusted
coo, coo's at the window
we didn't deserve to lose
so many of our loved ones
not to the schemes of our fathers' footnotes
bad blood in the pot,
and being shortchanged at the till,
young ladies at the bar - would beggar you have it?
and the blag cafhy y' bangor
we did believe in you
and you were as good as any other
but we are being gently reminded
that for our own gravesend,
the loss will pierce all our hearts'
just to think -
- it could be us joining you there...