Mark Lenover An Old Man And His Dog
An old man and his dog
Linger in the corner of the
Tavern as a fog
Descends upon the mourners of a
Recently departed legend
Blinding red-rimmed eyes
Yeah, they'll call the culprits out
They will take their revenge somehow
But the old man had known their hero for what he was
A feckless, pretending albatross
The old man looks upon
The mourners with a fixed expression
The weather spurns them on
A gloomy, serpentine procession
Coiling round the city centre
Strangling its prey
Yeah, they dress the old days up
But their costumes are not enough
To make him forget the terrible old regime
Or its lackluster champion's puerile dream
