Our Dad Our Dad, what a man He always said do the best you can Irreplaceable he told me you’re not But he is whether he likes it or not Down the Workman’s playing crib or darts He would win a lot and break their hearts. Everybody liked him that is for sure There on as Sunday till 12:54. Back home for lunch at one on the dot Mum wouldn’t be happy if he was not. Out in the garden smoking his pipe Veg was his thing, flowers not his type Tomatoes in the greenhouse he grew every year Some that he tried, came out very queer But he always tried to get a good crop A lot of the time he had more than a shop Back to the darts, his passion for years He was very good if you listen to his peers 180 he scored, quite often when he won And in one season he scored one with his son. Rugby League and football, he watched on TV. Mum didn’t watch it, not her cup of tea. So, record it he did, to watch late at night And sometimes other things like a big fight. A bet on a Saturday 5p each way Would he win who could say But in the bookies, everyone he knew Morning Ken said more than a few Playing music was another thing He used to play piano and Mum would sing Electronic keyboards soon came along And he quickly mastered how to play a good song Now he has gone he will be missed 90 years we had him, for which we are blessed We all loved him as much as anyone can Our Dad Ken Oddy a wonderful man