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.