The fighter

 Micky was a big fish

A prize fighting man

He lived in a pub called the Bell

When he used to ring it

You knew there would be Hell

Oh everyone wanted a piece of Micky

Yes he's gonna keep fighting

Till that last bell tolls

And rings time on his fight

Some days he was fighting other people

But it was himself that he fought at night

Cut off an ear

Or swing to the right

But he was a southpaw

In almost every fight

You can call him the devil

Or maybe he carried the light

But everyone wants a piece of Micky

Now that he is aging

Who will hold his spoon?

Who is it will collect his mail?

When he came out yes his body was broken

But still he fought on till the final curtain

Everyone wanted a piece of Micky