The Waffle Iron
She left me her father came to take her home
the train left nine at night; they sat in the café
I was outside the pain of the split up was overwhelmingly
painful but I had to cry silently.
Quarter to nine they took up their seats she laughed
like she had no care in the world.
Next day I was collecting and selling empty booze bottle
to sell at a scrap dealer I was broke and needed the money
She wrote asked if I would send the dog she missed it
and not to forget the waffle iron.
I sent the dog I loved it too, but I would do anything for her
the hope was she would come back.
I forgot the bloody waffle iron she wrote to ask for it
Didn`t bother to answer, but she was persistent, so I sent
her the bloody iron