Guy Clark ~ Let Him Roll
It was white port that put that look in his eye
Grown men get when they need to cry
We sat down on the curb to rest
And his head just fell down on his chest
He says: "Every single day it gets
Just a little bit harder to handle and yet. . ."
Then he lost the thread and his mind got cluttered
And the words just rolled off down the gutter
Well, he was elevator man in a cheap hotel
In exchange for the rent on a one room cell
An' he's old: years beyond his time
No thanks to the world, and the white port wine
So he said: "Son." He always called me son
Said: "Life for you has just begun."
An' then he told me the story I'd heard before
How he fell in love with a Dallas whore
Now, he could cut through the years to the very night
When it ended in a whore house fight
And she turned his last proposal down
In favor of being a girl about town
Now it's been seventeen years, right in line
He ain't been straight in none of the time
It's too many days of fightin' the weather
An' too many nights of not being together
So he died
An' when they went through his personal effects
In among the stubs from the welfare checks
Was a crumblin' picture of a girl in a door
An' an address in Dallas, and nothin' more
An' the welfare people provided the priest
A couple from the mission down the street
Sang "Amazing Grace", and no one cried
'Cept some lady in black, way off to the side
We all left and she's standing there
A black veil covering her silver hair
Ol' One-Eyed John said her name was Alice
An' she used to be a whore in Dallas
So let him roar, Lord, let him roll
I bet he's gone to Dallas, rest his soul
Just you let him roll, Lord, let him roar
He always said that heaven
Was just a Dallas whore
Just you let him roar, Lord, let him roll
I bet he's gone to Dallas, rest his soul
Well he was wino, tried and true
Done about everything there is to do
Done about everything there is to do
He worked on freighters, an' he'd worked in bars
He worked on farms, an' he'd worked on cars
He worked on farms, an' he'd worked on cars
It was white port that put that look in his eye
Grown men get when they need to cry
We sat down on the curb to rest
And his head just fell down on his chest
He says: "Every single day it gets
Just a little bit harder to handle and yet. . ."
Then he lost the thread and his mind got cluttered
And the words just rolled off down the gutter
Well, he was elevator man in a cheap hotel
In exchange for the rent on a one room cell
An' he's old: years beyond his time
No thanks to the world, and the white port wine
So he said: "Son." He always called me son
Said: "Life for you has just begun."
An' then he told me the story I'd heard before
How he fell in love with a Dallas whore
Now, he could cut through the years to the very night
When it ended in a whore house fight
And she turned his last proposal down
In favor of being a girl about town
Now it's been seventeen years, right in line
He ain't been straight in none of the time
It's too many days of fightin' the weather
An' too many nights of not being together
So he died
An' when they went through his personal effects
In among the stubs from the welfare checks
Was a crumblin' picture of a girl in a door
An' an address in Dallas, and nothin' more
An' the welfare people provided the priest
A couple from the mission down the street
Sang "Amazing Grace", and no one cried
'Cept some lady in black, way off to the side
We all left and she's standing there
A black veil covering her silver hair
Ol' One-Eyed John said her name was Alice
An' she used to be a whore in Dallas
So let him roar, Lord, let him roll
I bet he's gone to Dallas, rest his soul
Just you let him roll, Lord, let him roar
He always said that heaven
Was just a Dallas whore
Just you let him roar, Lord, let him roll
I bet he's gone to Dallas, rest his soul
No comments:
Post a Comment