There he sits just waiting,
For someone to lend an ear...
As he saddles up besides you,
When you sit down to drink a beer...
At first he seems quite harmless,
Nobody from the local...
But as the crowd gets bigger,
He becomes a little vocal...
He is called the Yarnster,
The teller of many tales...
The truth is always stretched,
With consumption of several ales...
No need to watch the news,
When you’ve got a bloke like this...
There are not too many stories,
That this fella would have missed...
He can forecast the weather,
Tell you how to succeed in life...
Old mate will even tell you,
On how to find a wife...
He shuffles around the bar,
Putting on a show...
Until he is the last one,
Then it’s time to go...
Tomorrow is another day,
They’ll be many more stories told...
The Yarnster is a legend,
And he’s worth his weight in gold...
Len Newey 2014