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The bastard got frigging drunk

Poured his sorrows onto the floor

People moved because he stunk

Such a messing, sodding bore.

On his knees he bent his ear

Heard a train way up the track

Over rail he arched his back

Sensed he’d lost all his fear.

One part of him he left behind

The other part he couldn’t find

Back to the bar he gingerly crept

Ordered another and silently wept.

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