Au Revoir Dick by Pat Hay

There's a lonely windswept airstrip
A windsock torn by time,
There's an aging Beaver aircraft
in a shed just down the line.
There's a greying publican of note
who gazes at the sky,
There's a cocky in the Westshore
who's never told a lie.
And will they miss you Dick old chap?
Too bloody right - and so will I.

There's a rough and ready pool table
in a bar you knew so well,
Its stories of the shots you played
and the lies you told like hell,
(Did Simmiss ever pay?)
And will we miss you Dick old chap?
Too bloody right we will.

There's memories and kind regards
from people just like me,
You sod; the devil helped you fly
and on to destiny.
There's admiration and respect
from the likes of him and me,
And will we miss you Dick old chap?

Too bloody right will we.