The old man sits underneath the bridge
Watching the barges pass
Spitting the juce from a lifetime’s pipe
Into the muddy grass
He thinks of a time in the good old days
Before the nettles and mud
Walking the towpath arm in arm
Never was life so good
———————-
But down at the bottom of the old canal
A bloodsucker moves on a little child’s eyes
A colourful narrowboat passes on down
And the old man sitting in the silence sighs
———————–
A young man watches as his baby is born
Twitching his helpless hands
And the hard cold look on the mother’s face
He doesn’t understand
Remember the dark of the midnight walk
Trying to be so brave
Mumbling a prayer as the bubbles rise
Up from the muddy grave
——————
But down at the bottom of the old canal
A bloodsucker moves on a little child’s eyes
A colourful narrowboat passes on down
And the old man sitting in the silence cries
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