When I first met you I thought you were a bit rude
But, you being young, I made allowances for you
Maybe you disliked me, like many people do
You couldn't leave off your phone for a moment or two
Maybe you were contacting some lover
Arranging a delivery from your dealer
Finding out the latest Test Match score
Or, perhaps, you were simply a bore
For all my irritation my interest was fanned
Why was the blasted phone forever in your hand?
You were playing chess with a guy in Azerbaijan
I walk past the War Memorial on the way home
Twenty lads staring at their phones
Twenty sad bastards all alone.
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