Each week here in the UK, 26 pubs call time and shut their doors never to reopen. In some areas they become dwellings. Occasionally the name of the new house becomes the sole legacy of its former use. Recently I drove past an abandoned pub, complete with sign swinging on rusty hinges. It was derelict and called the Jolly Sailor…

Salty Sutton was a jolly sailor,
Sailed the Seven Seas,
But the greatest achievement in his life,
Was to down a pint with ease!
One time on leave from a tanker ship,
He returned to his old town,
No one had thought to tell him,
His local had closed down.
He went that night to another pub,
“You bastards!” he did cry,
“I turned my back for just six months,
And you drank my local dry!”
He stormed off to the dockside,
By now he’d had his fill,
And signed on for the nearest ship,
Heading for Brazil.
Nobody’s ever heard,
Of Salty Sutton since,
There’s talk he shares an apartment,
With a Brazillian chap called Vince!
The pub stands quiet and empty,
Still the doors a-shut-un!
Some say it’s due to an evil curse,
Evoked by Sailor Sutton!

© Baldock Bard 2013
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