December 27, 2014

Its this time of year when a porcelain figure of Marx Augustine sits on our dining room table, the fabled legend of a seriously dedicated party animal who was found lying in the street in 1679 and thinking he was dead, taken outside of the walls of Vienna and dumped in a plague pit bagpipes and all, when he awoke sometime next day, he found he could not get out, so he played his bagpipes until he was heard and rescued, he never caught the plague and some say it was the alcohol that save him. he was a poet and song writer.

Oh, My Dear Augustine

(Chorus)
Oh, my dear Augustine
Augustine, Augustine,
Oh, my dear Augustine,
Everything's gone!

Money's gone, man is gone,
Everything's gone, Augustine!
Oh, my dear Augustine,
Everything's gone!

(Chorus)

Coat is gone, floor is gone,
Augustine lies in the mud.
Oh, my dear Augustine,
Everything's gone!

(Chorus)

Even rich Vienna,
Is broke, like Augustine
And cries with me the same way,
Everything's gone!

(Chorus)

Every day was a feast,
And now what? Plague, the plague!
Now all the corpses feast.
This is all that remains.

(Chorus)

Augustine, Augustine,
Lay down in your grave!
Oh, my dear Augustine,
Everything's gone!

(Chorus)