Old Nick

Well I knew the Devil
Nice chap with a horn
Dressed in red
Good toasted crumpets if I remember rightly

Old Nick we call him
Nick the Old
Right old bleeder
Sat before his ever lit fire

Steaming mug of tea in his leathery hand
Flat cap perched tween his horns
Not one for a booze
But a wry sense of humour for all that

Dam good chess player too
We played for days on end
Chess, draughts, you name it
Old Nick was good.


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