It was his father’s car was this a dream?
And he felt shocked even too shocked to scream.
This cannot be no this cannot be real
His father trapped between front seat and wheel
And blood from his head went trickling down his hair
No this was real and this was no nightmare.
Up to the road he ran the tearful boy
And he called for help to motorist driving by,
The driver stopped can I help you he said?
It’s my dad he blurted out I think he’s dead.
Three decades later and the now greying Bill
Still has nightmares of that day at White rock hill
On seeing his drunken father crash and die
Life’s darkest day for twelve years old schoolboy.
Eight pints of beer and a large whiskey for the road
And one too many is an overload,
His father Jack to fact did not adhere
That whiskey never mixes well with beer.
Bill told his son John how his grand dad died
But the real truth from him he has kept ahide
That Jack that day had left the public bar
And in a drunken state had driven his car.
Though middle aged and his hair now turning gray
Bill still has nightmares of his darkest day
On White rock hill his dad’s old ford he see
Veer off the road and crash against a tree.