“My wife was my life,” He cried in his beer.
A terrible sound like crunching a gear.
He moaned and he groaned, never bought the next round.
Couldn’t reach for his pocket with “Her” underground.
He made a profession, down at the pub.
He cried everyday.  Could have filled up a tub.
“If only she’d lived.  If only she’d stayed,”
“There’d be beer all around.  And I would have paid.”

But she wasn’t around, had left long ago.
And her miserable death had stopped his cash flow.
She’d been such an angel, everyone knew,
Then to die like she did - just from the ‘flu!
It was tragedy "live" in their own little town,
A small price to pay to buy the next round.
They could feel his real pain, could feel it too much.
They understood why he’d become such a lush.

They’d known him forever.  He was one of them all.
And you don’t run away when you see a mate fall.
"Best not to judge, best not to condemn.
Life can topple a giant, and all normal men."
So they all loved him quietly, for five years or more.
‘Til he started to smile, and reached for the door.
He first found a job.  He worked everyday.
He still went to the pub, but now he could pay.

“A round for my friends.  A toast to them all!”
“You’re the best I could have.  You need help, you just call.”
And often they did.  We all need a hand.
They trusted each other, and made no demands.
Not perfect, not them, but good folk to know.
They were there when it counted, not just for show.
Their lives were all mixed, both happy and sad,
But knowing each other made everyone glad.

"It’s good to be caring."  That was their fact.
It made up for all faults, whatever they lacked.
A band of pub angels, just sharing a drink.
But it’s more than the beer, it’s more than they think.
They grow when together.  They all become more.
They see halos and heartaches, and not all the flaws,
And truth to be told, if God had a choice,
I’m sure She’d be here in loud boisterous voice

She’d share all the cheer.  She’d radiate joy.
She’s a wild happy being, not cold-hearted and coy.
So a small slice of heaven is down at the pub.
All praise to the beer and the cheap, tasty grub.
Of course there’s the laughter, a fair share of tears,
And love and support through all of these years.
So it’s not what they’re drinking that makes it so great.
It's the philosophy there, “You stand by a mate.”