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 Old Bob by Robert William Service 
						I guess folks think I'm mighty dumbSince Jack and Jim and Joe
 Have hit the trail to Kingdom Come
 And left me here below:
 Since Death, the bastard, bowled them out,
 And left me faced with--Doubt.
 
 My pals have all passed out on me
 And I am by my lone;
 Old Bill was last, and now I see
 His name cut on a stone;
 A marble slab, but not as fine
 As I have picked for mine.
 
 I nurse and curse rheumatic pain
 As on the porch I sit;
 With nothing special in my brain
 I rock and smoke and spit:
 When one is nearing to the end
 One sorely needs a friend.
 
 My Pals have gone,--in God's good earth
 I guess they're packed up snug,
 And since I have no guts for mirth
 I zipper to my mug:
 The question that I ponder on
 Is--where the heck they've gone?
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