Murphy’s Pub.

This particular Murphy deserved

all he got and then some.









Murphy’s Pub.

Spud Murphy owned the local pub,
The place where deals were done,
Where all the locals congregate,
And drink, while yarns are spun.

Spud Murphy was an Irishman,
Stood six foot in his socks,
Though he’d fight and win, with roundhouse swings,
He’d never learned to box.

He was tough as nails, was Murphy,
With two fists like blocks of stone,
With his muscled arms behind them,
They’d been known to shatter bone.

There wasn’t one man in the town,
Who’d challenge Murphy to a fight,
They’d all been dropped along the way,
By Murphy’s roundhouse right.

‘Twas a day like any other,
When the stranger came to town,
And the locals in the bar room,
Grinning, eyed him up and down.

Long and lean and cleanly shaven,
Shirt and tie a matching set.
They thought Murphy would “do” the stranger,
Without hardly raising sweat.

As the stranger tried to order,
Silence followed Murphy’s roar…
“Only true men served in here mate;
Try the Ladies Bar next door.”

You could feel the crowd awaken,
For that insult can’t be taken,
Either fight, or lose your manhood,
All your self-respect forsaken.

Having classed the stranger in his mind
As a fresh faced, raw beginner,
Murphy lumbered from behind the bar,
He would “do” this dude for dinner.

The stranger stood his ground without
The slightest fear or quiver,
As Murphy swung his roundhouse punch,
The whole crowd seemed to shiver.

With the stranger’s swift reaction,
Murphy’s grin became a frown,
For he wasn’t where Spud Murphy’s punch
Was aimed, to strike him down.

The stranger hummed a catchy tune…
A few bars from “Carmen’s” score,
And landed two almighty blows
Shook Murphy to the core.

Spud charged, he swore, he swung and missed,
The stranger kept on humming.
The fight had passed beyond a joke,
The end, was not long in coming.

With another solid, deadly blow,
Murphy’s eyes began to drift,
As the stranger stood there humming,
Could it be… “Beethoven’s Fifth”?

As Murphy heaved his battered hulk
From the beer stained bar room floor.
The stranger blessed that self defense
They’d taught him in the war.

He stepped inside Spud’s roundhouse swing,
And dropped him to the floor,
And ended Spud’s unbeaten run…
That day, and evermore.

As two or three ran for the Doc…
A few more for the Preacher;
Said the stranger, “Just send me the bill.
I’m the school’s new music teacher.”

written by A.E.Green.