When my old man got home at night
He would drink until he felt alright
Then he'd sit and talk to the pictures on the wall
And now and then he'd stop to think
What it is that makes him drink
But no one ever answered to his call

Now my old lady is really nice
But at times she's cold as ice
I guess that's just the way things have to be
'cause Times are hard and getting worse
We've set the pace, we've set the Course
And we're cast a float upon an endless sea
Just remember it's not only you and me

Nice poem .