Sitting here listing to the fire
I begin to conspire,
With my family of little friends
The fun always begins,
Occasionally eliciting snickers & grins
Politics & lunatics and literary farb,
Prostitots, & hotintots, & Brit-a-ninny garb
Latest news, gossips snooze,
New shoes, & old booze
And who's to win and who's to lose,
And what's the use of feeding a goose
Or goosing a moose or throwing a noose,
'round a thought on the lose.
For a family of friends
Drawn to warm tired shins,
And other pink ends
In a warm cozy den,
That the fun never ends
'mid'sted the chuckles & grins,
Tho we bicker and fight
'bout such things that are trite,
Tho our thoughts give flight
Going off like a kite,
thinks we're not very bright
Over all we're quite tight,
To observe from without
As we scratch, belch, and shout,
One would wonder just how
Or too what could come now!
But we know from within
When it quiets and then,
With the fire burned low
And the owls saying hoooo,
For our beds we retire
With our dreams banking higher,
To awake well refreshed
Test to face fights to best,
Shoulders hard to the grind
Bought with hard bitten time,
Knowing full bloody well
Coming back to the spell,
To our fire we're drawn
Even though it be gone,
We relight with this song.