John Williamson the buckled bicycle

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Bill you were a friend of mine
A gentleman indeed
On your two wheeled steed
Did you ever cry ?
Did you laugh at our pettiness
With your pump and tyre tight
You left us with a bump in the night
Bill was hard to understand
A language of his own
A man so much alone, no family
He was on to something
His joy was plain to see
I wish he could have passed it on to me
Bill had no funeral
He's just a ghost today
His pump was his tombstone
They threw his Buckled Bicycle away
The little town closed ranks
The constable was wise
The driver drowns his sorrows
When he turns out the light
He still hears the bump in the night
Drink another brandy boys
And pour another beer
After all he was a simpleton
Was he really here ?
Plant him in the limestone
With his little bag of gear
Keep his pump, that's okay
Just throw his Buckled Bicycle away
A vivid boyhood memory
I can't forget the day
This will be his epitaph
They threw his Buckled Bicycle away

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