How did the funeralo go? On the day of it, June 27th, down at the other end of the country, I sang that song I wrote about him in the session in the Peterboat, at the Leigh on Sea Folk Festival.

And here are the revised words (to a tune reminiscent of Home Lads Home, which he loved, but not quite the same):

It wasn't on the news of course, when he died the other day,
But this craftsman with a singing voice had friends so far away,
Friends who never met him, but they knew him just the same,
They knew him as "the Pub Prop Man" - Brian Rathmill was his name.
Yes, times are strange, at times I think, "Are we heading for the end?"
Well, thank God there are a few things still on which we can depend.
The poet said, "Things fall apart, the centre cannot hold"
But Brian Rathmill and his Pub Prop they're worth their weight in gold.

Such a cunning little gadget, and it's saved a lot of folk,
And that's a thing worth doing, and I swear that not a joke
Yes, you can try to save the world, and I hope that you go far -
But so many times the Pub Prop Man has saved my old guitar
Yes, times are strange, at times I think, "Are we heading for the end?"
Well, thank God there are a few things still on which we can depend.
The poet said, "Things fall apart, the centre cannot hold"
But Brian Rathmill and his Pub Prop they're worth their weight in gold.

You can leave it there in safety, as you struggle to the bar,
Then turn and sea it standing there, and raise a grateful jar.
And every time I go to play, I call him back to mind,
And Brian Rathmill's Pub Prop is never left behind.
Yes, times are strange, at times I think, "Are we heading for the end?"
Well, thank God there are a few things still on which we can depend.
The poet said, "Things fall apart, the centre cannot hold"
But Brian Rathmill and his Pub Prop they're worth their weight in gold.