the dirge of the cup..

When I came to fill up my lovely red thermos mug (a gift from Tracey & her man in Lalalty), I, I can't find it anywhere. 

I had boiled the billy to fill it up,

but then i couldn't find my cup.

Den I recalled, says this small Paul,

dat yesterday morning I'd used it all.

And drank from it the day before, as squat-

ed by the road, and it was still quite hot.

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You might have to imagine a bit of an Celtic lilt, or country blues, or rap tang to ze voice. It's at least soul.

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For alas I must sing 

the dirge of the cup..

Which is what I will now make up. May cup.

May cup, I say, is gone this day, alas.

If any good cup could hold water up

right where it should, it could, and would. It has!

And what is more, it kept a cold drink cold.

It kept a hot drink hot. 'Twas red & bold.

The folk who gave it me, they gave  not sold.

And too, its lid still sealed, it wasn't old

and crusty. Did I leave it when I stopped

to boil the billy yesterday, when drank

I from the cup, the last tea that I copped

from this good helper. It could not be a prank,

except maybe unless my memory

is helping me forget where I do put

things, or attention flies away, I see

it happened just this morning with the woot-

er ten-litre con-tain-er, then lay it

down on its side with lid untied, I'm sad

to say, but glad I saw a drip. Some git

had laid it, lid untightened. Well too bad.

And back 2 cup, that's not turned up. I'm sad.

But still rejoice in good that poised in it.

The folk who gave, how it behaved. They're glad -

glad tokens of the good that doesn't shit

on you. (- I use that word, to mean a turd -

the waste that bi-o-log-ic-al life has).

I hope that someone finds that cup. Absurd?

But if you do, I'm glad for you….. Alas.

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A picture taken a week or so ago, before the cup went missing.

Here's the first audio roadside "take", of the (normally personal roadside) first singing of "the dirge of the cup".

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