Actually, My Mother And Alfie Came For

You Never Know When You Might Come Home And Find Mam Sitting By The Fire Chatting With A Woman And A Child, Strangers. Always A Woman And Child. Mam Finds Them Wandering The Streets And If They Ask, Could You Spare A Few Pennies, Miss? Her Heart Breaks. She Never Has Money So She Invites Them Home For Tea And A Bit Of Fried Bread And If It's A Bad Night She'll Let Them Sleep By The Fire On A Pile Of Rags In The Corner. The Bread She Gives Them Always Means Less For Us And If We Complain She Says There Are Always People Worse Off And We Can Surely Spare A Little From What We Have.

You Feel A Sense Of Urgency, Especially At My Advanced Age, When You're Staring Into The Grave.

Happiness Is Hard To Recall. Its Just A Glow.

Just Let Them Sit In The Goddam Sun. But The World Won't Let Them Because There's Nothing More Dangerous Than Letting Old Farts Sit In The Sun. They Might Be Thinking. Same Thing With Kids. Keep 'em Busy Or They Might Start Thinking.

We Never Really Had Any Kind Of A Christmas. This Is One Part Where My Memory Fails Me Completely.