Rubaiyat of Omar Majeed

Get up! The sun has cleaned the sky of stars
And Wetherspoons will be open shortly
Pour me a pint please if you can be arsed
Because tomorrow we may breathe our last

And I’ll have a bacon butty as well
If I’m going to be feeding the worms.
The country has royally gone to the dogs
But a lager top might be just the job

Oh lager! Lager! Fill it up I cry
Today’s a bank holiday weekend
And as I said before my dear friend
Perhaps tomorrow is the day we die

The clock spins its hands and time trots along
I’ll have another one before I’m gone
My mouth is dry, the butty’s eaten and
The jukebox plays a sad and sombre song

Here I sit on maroon upholstered pine
A copy of The Sun on the table
And you sitting beside, your hand in mine
Barman! It’s time! We demand wine! Wine! Wine!

Some wait patiently for the life to come.
Some people love power, and some lust for fame
For you and I my longsuffering friend
A bottle of red will do just the same.

Let’s leave these wise old sods whose proper words
Will by stopped with clods of earth, pecked by birds
when all’s said and done all we have is this
So take my hand and let’s go on the piss.

But why are we here? They ask, and What for?
Just pour me another golden beer
And I’ll walk out gladly from the same door
I came in, and I’ll go on and drink more.

The sun has set tonight, the day is done,
I’d say smiling we had a lot of fun
And if that be all there is do not fret
It’s the same for all the others my pet