A Contented Manby John McMenamin Jordie gets up early, "cause he is a country man"
Two rashers and a free range egg in a black, cast iron pan
Listens to the radio, as he pulls on his shoes
Pecker Dunn, Johnny Cash, the weather and the news. Squints out at the morning sky, to gauge the coming day
Swallows swooping 'oer the lea, rain is on the way
Stirs the smouldering embers, to bring them back to life
Washes up his cup and plate, his spoon, his fork, his knife Reaches for the old green coat, that's hanging on the door
A wrestling match to get it on, a coin falls on the floor
Puts his cap upon his head, it's old and worn and grey
Steps out in the morning sun, to greet another day. The wind is soft and gentle and blowing from the west
The cockeral crows and preens himself, he wants to look his best
The chickens, cluck and gossip and cluster round his feet
A robin sits and cocks his head, on a stack of dry, black peat
The goat is eating ivy that's entwined around a tree
The little birds are singing, the humming of the bee
Tiny sits and scratches, then gives himself a shake
The ducks are walking through they yard, behind them comes the drake.
A car goes speeding down the road, the man inside is cross
His head is full of worries, and he doesn't like his boss
He never see the beauty of the early summer day
As he tots up his commission and the mortgage he must pay. He's got an ucler in his stomach and his heart is not too good.
He drinks too much and smokes too much, and eats the wrong auld food
Jordie he looks after him, in his head there's not a worry
Smiles and say's to Tiny, "Boys that wee mans in a hurry." Jordie yawns and stretches and scratches at his head
The robin sits and watches, with it's breast of scarlet red
Jordie hums a little tune, as he gazes at the day
Then Tiny and him, go back inside to have a cup of tay
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