Maybe you’ll recognise a friend like Jerry. Someone that smiles their way through life. Someone that will always know someone else on a night out. Someone (that certainly claims) to never get a hangover, no matter what they put down their neck. Here’s hoping their luck doesn’t run out.
Jerry McTaggart, age 32, was a fun loving man with little a clue.
he had lots of friends, though they never knew why
“Top bloke” “nice chap” “Jerry? What a guy!”
Whilst At school he was taunted and teased ’bout his hair
though he never seemed bothered, not once did he care.
With a small band of chums and allies of sorts,
he kept his nose clean and avoided most sports.
With a wave and a stutter he’d get through each day
and at home time the field was normally the way
to a place with high trees and over grown grass,
where he’d sit and reflect just try to laugh.
Jerry McTaggart, age 23, was sat on a plane, over the sea
As he flew through the sky some years after learning,
He thought of his hair and that sick smell of burning.
Travelling the world with no love of the past
Meant sunshine and smiles and freedom at last.
Whilst the children from school, were older not wiser
stood flipping their burgers and serving up tizer.
No stranger was met without leaving a friend
laughing and joking and promising to send
that photo they took, with the real cheesy grin.
The bottles, now empty, littered the bin.
The number of friends, by the end of the year,
was only surpassed by the litres of beer,
and vodka and gin and spirits without label.
Young jerry would drink you under the table.
Yet never unpleasant, not once in a fight
he served with a smile night after night.
Til one day it was time to return to his home
to mum, dad and aunty, “My haven’t you grown!”
Fast forward again, and he’ll always be seen
with a smile on his face coz no one is mean,
to the man with a liver as pickled as eggs;
a man they call jerry, who has no regrets.
