The Lies People Tell

Our friend had diamonds and sapphires on her fingers,
you could see them sparkle as the beauty lingers,
maybe a ruby somewhere with a flash of sunset red,
from three marriages given lovingly since she was wed.

Those precious stones followed us around always,
thro' country lanes with port and brandy on sunny days,
even to Tewin where Lewis (F1) was raised to be king,
we'd laugh as we drove, you should have heard us sing.

Rick Astley blared out on the radio, we swayed
together, in harmony, as tho we could never be afraid;
she called me, 'My lad' and 'My dear,' gave a tear
to think about her, because sadly she's no longer here.

Those rings were removed, it was such a terrible waste,
they said not to worry because they were only paste.