Ambition ©2022TonyFallon0820

 Ambition ©2022TonyFallon0820

When I was growing up in the country I hadn't one ambition

I did not know what I would be but it was not a physician

While I was good at English I was better at math addition

And I did not want to be a priest in the African mission

My father was in the building trade but that was not appealing

Because I got dizzy at anything higher than a ceiling

If I was a farmer I would have to do a lot of plowing

And in summer I would have to use a scythe to do the mowing

Farming seemed like to me there were long days and far too much labor

I don't think I was cut out for that and I didn't like our neighbor

The work was far too back breaking to make a living in the bog

And they said that over in England and London there was much smog

When I left school at sixteen I wound up in the drapery trade

I might as well have stayed on in school for all I was being paid

I worked for a while with CIE on the railroad laying down new tracks

But it always seemed to be raining we were often wearing macks

Then on the old rocky road to Dublin I did one day debark

And wound up in digs with Gerry Cummings a few streets from Croke Park

At that time Low paying jobs in Dublin were somewhat abundant

But if I had stayed working in Clery's now I'd be redundant

At night I used to go out canvassing selling the soccer pools

Which was Raising some weekly money for St Josephs Blind Boys Schools

I said goodbye to my dear old Dublin and many trusty mates

I took a plane in Shannon one Sunday and wound up in the states

I missed the easy time in Ireland but yet I have no remorse

For the new York opportunities here are an abundant source

Sure I am always looking over my shoulder for old glories

And to anyone who'll listen I'll tell them old Irish stories

I would not have done as well if I had stayed in the Republic

I worked for a bank and for years I was a notary public

I've been in magazine and papers and still continue to write

And I'm often on the computer in the middle of the night

My mother taught all her sons how to darn their socks and how to cook

But I never thought on this day I'd have my own poetry book

When I was growing up in the country I hadn't one ambition

I did not know what I would be but it was not a physician

While I was good at English I was better at math addition

And I did not want to be a priest in the African mission

My father was in the building trade but that was not appealing

Because I got dizzy at anything higher than a ceiling

If I was a farmer I would have to do a lot of plowing

And in summer I would have to use a scythe to do the mowing

Farming seemed like to me there were long days and far too much labor

I don't think I was cut out for that and I didn't like our neighbor

The work was far too back breaking to make a living in the bog

And they said that over in England and London there was much smog

When I left school at sixteen I wound up in the drapery trade

I might as well have stayed on in school for all I was being paid

I worked for a while with CIE on the railroad laying down new tracks

But it always seemed to be raining we were often wearing macks

Then on the old rocky road to Dublin I did one day debark

And wound up in digs with Gerry Cummings a few streets from Croke Park

At that time Low paying jobs in Dublin were somewhat abundant

But if I had stayed working in Clery's now I'd be redundant

At night I used to go out canvassing selling the soccer pools

Which was Raising some weekly money for St Josephs Blind Boys Schools

I said goodbye to my dear old Dublin and many trusty mates

I took a plane in Shannon one Sunday and wound up in the states

I missed the easy time in Ireland but yet I have no remorse

For the new York opportunities here are an abundant source

Sure I am always looking over my shoulder for old glories

And to anyone who'll listen I'll tell them old Irish stories

I would not have done as well if I had stayed in the Republic

I worked for a bank and for years I was a notary public

I've been in magazine and papers and still continue to write

And I'm often on the computer in the middle of the night

My mother taught all her sons how to darn their socks and how to cook

But I never thought on this day I'd have my own poetry book