Soggy Pete

My name is Soggy Pete
Yahar!
I work outside this valley
Guarding the slag heap

The young ones laugh at me
Ha ha ha ha ha ha!
But I was here before them
And i'll be there when they leave

The dust is worst after it rains
It turns your fingernails black
My grin is always widest when the wind is at my back
I'll be standing on that heap
Rain, storm or shine
Watching for vagabonds
And playing with my knife

My name is Soggy Pete
Yahar!
I'll tell you how I got that name
One night on the slag heap

The wind turned east to westerly
On a damp November eve
Clouds eclipsed the sun
What I saw I paid no heed
When all the rest had turned to go
And shelter in the valley
I stood watching for vagabonds
And playing with my knife

When the gailing had enough
And the water ceased to fall
My sodden soul could still be seen
Standing on the heap

As I returned to my home in the valley
The water dripping from my bones
Made the rivers overflow

Soggy Pete I hear them whisper
As I walk on by
But I hear my name with pride
The man in the storm's eye
When all the rest had turned to go
And shelter in the valley
I stood watching for vagabonds
And playing with my knife



Credits
Writer(s): Ezra Briggs
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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