We were just little children
When our neighbour
That funny and clever mister
Who loved drinking beer
Died of too much drink.
I remember
How we loved him,
And the songs he sung
When he got drunk.
They were so strange
And outlandish
We loved them as well.
Mother replied then
That he went to heaven
Where there is more beer
To answer our question “why he left here? ”
Now,
I know she said that for our sake
And knowing that any answer we’d take
For I know in heaven there is no beer.
Is there?