Happy 70th Birthday Dad,
Love Joe.
Birdswing by Joe Middleton (a rewrite of an original song Beeswing by Richard Thompson).
He was 22 when he came to Bristol, living on Downfield Rd.
Courting a girl named Sally until on Lundy he proposed.
They travelled north and they travelled south, they travelled all around.
As friendship called and family mourned,
to the land of the long white cloud.
And with their new teachers wage, they bought a family home.
With two young boys in hand, and the dreams they had sown.
He is a rare thing, fine as a birds wing.
With a smile so rare and kind it’ll blow you away.
He is a Yorkshireman, he is a gentleman,
And we love you more than ever words can say,
And we wouldn’t want you any other way.
38 years he spent, teaching in a classroom,
Giving every child time to learn, and letting each one bloom.
And every weekend he would walk, the Severn’s river banks,
And count the birds as they flew in, and count them back out.
And you’ll often find him, sat with a beer in hand,
surrounded by those bearded men, or travelling distant lands.
He is a rare thing, fine as a birds wing.
With a smile so rare and kind it’ll blow you away.
He’s a Yorkshireman, he is a gentleman,
And we love you more than ever words can say,
But he’s s always at the back of the queue to pay,
But he’s generous in so many other ways.
And the last I heard he’s retired now, just turned 70.
With grandchildren running around his feet,
And a pair of creaky knees.
But you’ll still find him on his bike, up and down the Gloucester Rd,
With the love of his life by his side, the luckiest man I know.
He is a rare thing, fine as a birds wing.
With a smile so rare and kind it’ll blow you away.
He is a Yorkshireman, and he is a gentleman,
And we love you more than ever words can say,
And we wouldn’t want you any other way.
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