The Famac Van
by John McMenamin
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Wee Paddy, got up early
Boiled a duck egg in a pan
And made himself presentable
To meet the Famac van.
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No more would he be lonely
A single man of 63
When the Famac van, came to his door
A different man he鈥檇 be.
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Wee Paddy, shaved the stubble
From his auld ugly face
The Famac van would ensure that he
Could propagate the race.
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No more nights of sitting
Listening to the ticking clock
Paddy鈥檚 ears were like a race horse
Waiting for the Famac knock.
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Paddy, wore an auld black suit
That he鈥檇 often wore before
His auld father, left it to him
When he died--in 84.
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It was saggy, it was baggy
Cause wee Paddy, was so thin
The zip was broke, so to close the yoke
Wee Paddy, used a pin.
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Wee Paddy, combed what hair he had
鈥渢ill it shone just like the sun
He used the same oil on his bicycle
A can of, Three in one鈥.
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His dentures, they were soaking
In a jam jar with some bleach
When the Famac van, came to his door
Love, would be in his reach.
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Wee Paddy, cleaned his Wellingtons
With an auld potato bag
To cure his nerves, he filled his pipe
With a damned good bowl of shag.
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Paddy, sat down with a tattered book
To do a bit of reading
When the Famac van, came to the house
He could get down to some breeding.
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Wee Paddy, squinted at the book
Through the one eye of his specs
He kept the book, beneath the bed
It was called, - 鈥淭he Joy Of Sex鈥
.
A van came rattlin鈥 down the lane
The horn it gave a blast
Wee Paddy, cried, 鈥淏e-jesus鈥
鈥淚t鈥檚 the Famac man, at last鈥.
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The driver, called out 鈥淧addy鈥
鈥淚鈥檝e got a box for you鈥
Well, this is it, thought Paddy
It鈥檚 too late now to rue.
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Wee Paddy, opened up the box
With a great big carving knife
And out then jumped a wee brown girl
--A philippino wife.
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Wee Paddy鈥 looked her up and down
She really was a honey
Wee Paddy, said 鈥淪he鈥檚 very small
--You don鈥檛 get much for your money鈥
.
Then wee Paddy, started breeding
Like the rabbits and the hares
Wee Paddy, was always, going up
Or coming down the stairs.
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And, soon a lot of wee brown boys
Were playing in the bogs
But it was too much for wee Paddy
And wee Paddy, popped his clogs.
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Wee Paddy, lay there in the bed
While his auld grave was dug
And there was a smile of satisfaction
On wee Paddy鈥檚, ugly mug.
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They buried Paddy in the bog
Beside some granite rocks
There was no money, for a coffin
So they used the Famac box.
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The tombstone read, Here鈥檚 Paddy
A decent, honest man
His life was cruelly taken
By a big, white, Famac van.
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Wee Paddy, lies there in the bog
In one hand is his specs
His right hand, holds a tattered book
The well thumbed, 鈥淛oy Of Sex鈥.
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So if you鈥檙e getting on a bit
And looking for a wife
Stay away from the Famac van
Or you may lose鈥攜our life.
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So, here鈥檚 to little Paddy
Who had a cunning plan
The joy of sex, in a cardboard box
Inside a Famac van.
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