He likes this apple, chews,
He was a boxer, a goalkeeper.
His name was Arthur,
Uncle Arthur has a screw loose
The kids chanted
As he traipsed his way  home from work.
His filthy tie hung over his chest.
Worn on all occasions
He lived at the behest of his sister
In the smallest room of the house
Now, instead of screaming, he wimpered
When he heard the gatling gun's rapid rattle
He ducked the explosions.He still wet the bed
Still he bowed to no one,
Fear had infected his whole life.,
But he bowed to no bugger.
He didn't know his exact age
Around fifty, he thought.
He knew he was 18 in 1914.
As a goalkeeper he benefited from his height
In the trenches
He was afraid of having his head blown off..
He didn't respond to anyone's handshake.
Made a living as a turner, he used a lathe
Every day barring Sunday.
He did not accompany his sister to chapel.
He tended his soft fruit bushes..
Arthur said: "From my mother as I was born,
I haven't bowed to anyone else."
"For years I was a goalkeeper here,
I didn't respond to anyone's bow.
Folk answer a bow through fear
I have no fear left to feel,
My heart died in Picardy."