Autumn (Paul O’Brien)

 

Every year around that time

The yanks they call the fall

An old man would come limping

With conkers for us all

We’d watch him climb the stairway

Kids came from all around

And he’d empty out the conkers

And we’d watch them tumble down

 

The playgrounds and the swings

Dublin grey

Puddles on the concrete

Rainy autumn days

 

Maybe he used to have

Some children of his own

Maybe they’ve all passed away,

Maybe they’ve just grown

Or perhaps he never married

And had no kids at all

No Sundays down in Fairview

With the chislers playing ball

 

Sure it’s hard to find a partner

When you’re dragging ‘round one leg

And he never looked for sympathy

And wasn’t one to beg

He never let on who he was,

I never seen his face

Ah! Sure if he showed up now,

He wouldn’t know the place