A surly bloke in his forties with few words to say
You won't see him smile on the sunniest day
His only offspring a daughter living in a town far away
And his wife with another with him did not stay
The joys of life he is not known to embrace
Known to those who know or know of him as grumpy face
Of his praises you won't hear anyone sing
Yet he is a fellow who does his own thing
When he's at the pub he's not part of the crowd
He drinks on his own and he never talks loud
A fellow who would be hard to get to know
He does not have a friend or he does not have a foe
A powerfully built fellow broad shouldered and tall
He never talks of work, women, politics or football.
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