THE MAN WHO SOLD THE WORLD

.... I thought he was an American. He wore a Yankee baseball cap, had a short well trimmed beard and spoke with twinkling blue eyes from behind rimless round glasses. He was perhaps in his seventy second year or might have been nearer his seventy seventh. It matters not. Certainly he was a spry and alert individual who complimented me on the Harley which sat parked outside the office. You're not from here then, I suggested rhetorically - his thick brogue, unmistakably Glaswegian! No, no, my Mother was, but I was a plumber and left Scotland to work in Africa. I grafted, God how I grafted and built up a really successful business then after 30 years I decided to go into farming, in Zimbabwe. We bought the farms for £3million ... that was almost 18 years ago. My wife and I left to come back to Ireland for a family holiday. My daughter called us over here and said 'don't come back Dad!' Mugabe took the lot. It was valued at £24 million then. I had exactly £3000 in cash and the clothes I walked in. We will never ever see these farms again ...

From a conversation this afternoon

THE MAN WHO SOLD THE WORLD

We passed upon the stair, we spoke of was and when
Although I wasn't there, he said I was his friend
Which came as some surprise I spoke into his eyes
I thought you died alone, a long long time ago

Oh no, not me
I never lost control
You're face to face
With The Man Who Sold The World

I laughed and shook his hand, and made my way back home
I searched for form and land, for years and years I roamed

I gazed a gazely stare at all the millions here
We must have died alone, a long long time ago

Who knows? not me
We never lost control
You're face to face
With the Man who Sold the World