Monday, December 3, 2018

Pat Logue RIP © 2018TonyFallon1202



Pat Logue RIP © 2018TonyFallon1202

Most Irish in America are easy to please
A good strong cuppa in their hand they don't want high teas
They don't need any fancy food to keep them alive
They rarely play a chess game but they love twenty five
Up here in the East Durham we are no more diverse
We play a lot of twenty five we could be doing worse
There are different opinions about rules being applied
Often Kathleen Murphy is the one who has to decide.
We kept it going in winter until the snow birds arrived
And for about seventy years the weekly games survived
With the lack of immigration the number kept declining
And since we don't teach the youth to play we can't be whining
It was at the old St Mary's church we made our final stand
And there unknown to all of us we played the final hand
Hackett Scanlon and Malley sat there in winter clothes
I don't know who won the last game it doesn't matter I suppose
Last winter was the winter that broke the old witches' neck
We couldn't get four any night so we never used the deck
Down to the last three of us it would not be the same
We went the whole long winter without even one game.
We three survivors were I,Pat Logue and Kevin O'Rourke
Who comes from Tipperary which is next door to Cork
And Kevin on Thursdays is not even here always
In fact he's down in Westchester each week three or four days
No matter how hard Pat and I tried we were unable
To get a fourth or fifth player to fill out the table
No more trips to Rockland in search of championships
And we'll have to search now for the extra cards and chips
When Tyrone won the All Ireland there was no one more proud
He'd have lit a bonfire in the barrel but he wasn't allowed
The big dealer in the sky has called Pat Logue to heaven
So there's no more Tyrone man just myself and Kevin





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