Me and Eddie

One night on the dawn of October
back in good ole ‘49
in that beat-down bar on Thames
I sat down next to you and your stout.
You said they all called you a poet,
but you said you were more of a sot.
My words were never very noteworthy
so I bought you a brew instead.
You spoke of a German explorer,
though I can’t recall his name,
and about how we all used to be one.
I knew it was the drink talking for you
so I bought you another.
You continued on about pushes and pulls
and about something called "atoms,”
so I bought you another--
one part whiskey and one part Adam's ale.
The hours went by and morning was near,
so as the barkeep called out
I bought you another for the road.
Ed, I never caught your full name,
but it was only a few days later
I knew I had bought brews for a king.