Ole McFly that funny old guy,
What a funny old guy is Ole McFly.
Now resides on the old church green,
In a brightly lit caravan, which gleams.
Locals mutter, ‘he’s dirty, unclean’.
Menacing, mean, a sight to be seen.
Ole McFly that funny old guy,
What a funny old guy is Ole McFly.
Came upon him once again,
In the cold and sheeting rain.
Enquire of his health; ‘nice to see you again’.
‘Where have you been, my dear old friend’?
Ole McFly that funny old guy,
What a funny old guy is Ole McFly.
‘Shall I walk with you for a while’?
Declare I saw a hint of a smile.
Not a word, like he hadn’t heard.
Left me thinking, how absurd.
Ole McFly that funny old guy,
What a funny old guy is Ole McFly.
All at once starts whistling like a bird,
Not a whimper, not a word.
So once again we silently walk,
No need for either of us to talk.
Breda Ware
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