Death Of A Good Man

On the east side of Nashville I sat and got stoned

With a man that never told me his name

Said "the death of a good man don’t really matter

If he ain’t got no friends and no kin"

"In ’04 my boy fought in Fallujah

Just like I went and fought back in 'Nam

But I made it home, some bastard shot him

And he died over there in the sand"

Said "the cancer came back, oh, ‘bout a month ago

After two years of leaving me alone

And my wife passed back in December

Since then I been here on my own"

He spoke like a Southern Baptist preacher

Sang like a Pentecostal choir

Said he always done right by that woman

And ain’t no man could call him a liar

Some nights when his spirit got heavy

He’d dream of that lost promised land

Said it looked like back home in Virginia

But he’ll never see them old hills again

He said "I blame it on the damn tobacco

I blame it all on the booze

And I blame it on the fella sitting up in Heaven

For giving me the right to choose"

He said "I reckon I’ll die on a Tuesday

And I hope the suns gonna shine

I can’t take it with me so I drink it right here

My whiskey my beer and my wine"

He spoke like a Southern Baptist preacher

Sang like a Pentecostal choir

Said he always done right by his mama

And ain’t no man could call him a liar

But some nights when his spirit got heavy

He’d dream of that lost promised land

looked like back home in Virginia

He said "I’ll never see them old hills again"

And I’d sit at the bar while he’s talking

Just like me and him was old friends

And promised I’d always remember

The life of a good man

Now on the east side of Nashville I sit

And I get stoned