The Buckled Bicycle - John Williamson

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