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The Rumjacks
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The Reaper and Tam McCorty
Tam he woke tae find a shadow by the bed,
Blamed it on the vapors still beleaguerin' his head,
Scrubbed his chops & dragged an oily bug rake through his hair,
And wiped the mirror tae find the bogey mimickin' his stare,
He boilt the jug tae quench his mug & baked a lump o' toast,
Hid behind the racin' pages from the hoary ghost,
'Awfy ghostie if yer here tae make me dead,
Spare me life & bother me wife or Mother-in-law instead!'
'Tam McCorty I'm not here to make you cry,
I know youre just a broken man wi' longing in his eye,
I'll say my say & go my way a-carving through the rye,
Tam McCorty, its not your day to die.'
'By the way ye've hung yer tools o' trade & mantle I can tell,
Ye willnae leave until ye've seen me safely intae hell,
So follow me down the 'Horse & Crown' of liquor I'm sae fond,
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I'll drink meself tae death & haunt the witches from beyond.'
They drank to fallen heroes, they spat & cursed the Queen,
They argued o'er 'Black Caviar' - The finest ever seen?
They smoked cigars & played at cards for pots o' Gilbeys Gin,
Roarin' as the fiery liqour, it spilled all down their chin.
They staggered home along the tracks & pissed against a post,
The dogs a' barkin' madly, all as though they'd seen a ghost,
'Oh take me now I beg you, pick yer mark & pick it well,
I'm tired o' livin' & there I think I hear the hounds o' HELL!'
Death threw his cloak across him where he passed out in his chair,
And whispered in a frosty tone directly in his ear,
'Best you learn to live again, forgive yerself yer past,
For when you see me next Tam, it'll be your last.'
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