
My son, my son, she is the devil’s child
Won’t you save her while you can
Cut down the other man.
tobias m. schiel
Hometown hero flexing his arm
With a five-yard pass to the end of the bar
He says, “I’ll be right back I’m just gonna go grab another pack.”
Walks one block to the all-night station
And steps into a situation
There’s a man with a gun pointed at the nervous clerk
And before he could think
He was tackling the gunman
Who hit his head and was knocked unconscious
The clerk relieved said, “Oh my god
You’re a hero man and you should stick around
‘Til the cops get here, maybe you’ll make the morning news.”
But the hometown hero rose to his feet
Tossed him the gun and said, “Thanks, but I’ve gotta run
I’ll take a pack of camel lights and be on my way.”
I am the man on stage slurring your favourite songs.
Making up a few of the words as I go along.
Taking the edge off of me
Is a necessity when I’m singing these words that I no longer mean.
I am not a poet, I’m a broken heart
And though you didn’t dispute it, I don’t really play the part.
I am not dishonest, I’m a lost detail
Leaving out the good words to hide my trail.