A Good Way to Get Yourself Killed

[couchgrouch]

A Good Way to Get Yourself KilledDad was on a moonshine run, in his nitro ChevroletI was peekin' from the backseat, where I'd stowed awaywell, Dad musta done ninety, to avoid ten years in jailand when he lost that sheriff, I let out a rebel yellit eased my pain when Dad let me drink from his stillhe put his belt back on then saidthat was a good way to get yourself killedfiery bucket of bolts, empty forty ounce Coltflop sweat running down the floor shiftdrag race 'round widow's curve, the other guy lost his nerveand jumped before his Dodge went off the cliffI smoked across the linein that backfire Coupe DeVilletoo young to know the ways of youthare a good way to get yourself killedI romanced the waitress, in some possum hash cafewith ev'ry kiss I promised, I'd marry her somedaybut ev'ryone in the mountains, smelled the smoke of warand like a lotta hillfolk, I enlisted in the Corps.I could taste her tears that nightwhen I drank her last refillshe knew sometimes freedomis a good way to get yourself killedwe lost our Master Sgt., on a moonlit sand dunelast thing the Padre told him, was death is just a flesh woundI brought that wisdom with me, when I fin'lly came homeI whisper it to the pine trees, near my Father's stoneand I wed that pretty waitressin a chapel on the hilllove taught me there's no such thingas a good way to get yourself killed(c)2005 Robert George