Extra butter on my toast with O’Dohmnaill Abu
And I’m guessing that the year was eighty two
Breakfast with my Father, I’m kneeling on my chair
He’s shaving in the mirror and I’m trying not to stare
Rain or shine, off he goes
And it’s adios amigos
He says it every morning and down the street he’s gone
To a day of graft and toil but always has a song
Old spice and coal tar soap the order of the day
Extra butter on my toast, there is no other way
Rain or shine, off he goes
And it’s adios amigos
I’m eleven years old anytime I track the smell
Shoe polish on a Sunday and the call of Annunciation bells
But Monday morning comes too soon, we’re back to tea and toast
The Father and a son, the Spanish phrase he used the most
Rain or shine, off he goes
And it’s adios amigos
Extra butter on my toast, O’Dohmnaill Abu
The start of day, a family crew
Rain or shine off he goes
Adios amigos
Adios amigos
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem