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He was seven and I was six, my Brendon Gallacher.He was Irish and I was Scottish, my Brendon Gallacher.His father was in prison; he was a cat burglar.
Say, Good mornin, Granny MaamaGood mornin, Grandpa Taata.Good mornin when it rainin.Good mornin when sun shinin.Good mornin.
His name is called and there's a pause
just long enough to halt a war
tame timber wolves and trim their claws
hide diamonds in a secret drawer
I've just invented a flying machine;It's silver and gold and three shades of green.
Ah sey, ah want it short,Short back an' side,Ah tell him man, ah tell himWhen ah teck him aside,Ah sey, ah want a haircutAh can wear with pride,
Once everything was bigand you were small,but year after year your shadow crept up the wall and you grew tall.
Let me do it, let me do itLet me blow up the balloonLet me do it, let me do itLet me go to the moon
Now the day is over,you're lying in your bedand cares are spinning endlesslyaround your weary head.Remember that the moon you seeis also shining down on me.
Please Mrs ButlerThis boy Derek DrewKeeps copying my work, Miss.What shall I do?
A queen in a palace, slumped on a throne,Surrounded by servants but all alone.Heavy with handshakes, bunches of flowers,jewels, crowns, grinning for hours.