The Wood Will Be a Wake Tonight
One of the daytime boys bit the dust
It was before his time, but he'd hurried it up
They say no one's gonna miss him much
The Wood will be a wake tonight
Now one of the barstools sits empty
There's nobody taking shots of Wild Turkey
Happy Hour's getting started early
When they found him, they couldn't tell
If he went the long way around, or took a shortcut to Hell
It's all probably just as well
But the barkeep won't romanticize
He wants the newspaper man to get the facts right
He says. «Look me in the eyes
He was a bastard. He was bitter
A bad drunk, a worse tipper»
To make his life into a love song would be the worst kind of lie