Tuesday, July 31, 2007


I think a real man should
Tell the world just what he thinks,
And I don't feel anyone gets
Hurt by a few friendly drinks.

I like the musical tinkle
Of ice cubes in a cool glass,
And a friendly conversation
With a local lad or lass.

I've never been real fond
Of great big night clubs, and such.
Potted ferns and glitz and glitter
Never did impress me much.

But I know a busy place with
A 'Welcome' sign on the door,
Where they're still using real cornmeal
To slick up the dancing floor.

All the folks are real friendly there,
And they treat me rather grand.
And every Friday night they have
An old-fashioned country band.

With a crying steel guitar and
A big old 'stand up' string bass.
They know all the country classics,
Hey, that's sure one swinging place!

When they start picking and singing
A good old Hank Williams song,
I can't quite help but stomp my feet.
Sometimes I'll sing right along.

The girl singer's pretty and she
Asks if I have a request.
She sings all Kitty Wells' old songs,
They're the ones I like the best.

In that bar an old man can feel
Like he's still halfway alive,
I'll keep right on going there as
Long as I"m allowed to drive.

I feel I'm less sinner than saint-
I'm not Satan's tool or fool-
When the Grim Reaper claims me I
Hope I'm on my favorite stool.

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