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The Burden of Eighty-ProofHe limps along the night steetswrapped in wind and tattered ragshis bottle looks warmer than himin that brown paper baghe goes by all stooped and bentlike the world's on his backpeople laugh..they know his worldis in that bottle of Jackit's the burden of eighty-proofthat's been weighing him downand ev'ry ounce that he swallowsweighs a hundred poundslike a lifetime of sour rainon an old sagging roofsomething's gotta give, how long can he livewith the burden of eighty-proofnow, he's always mumbling lowshuffling the avenuebut no one ever wonderswho he's talkin' todoes he carry the mem'ryof his wicked, cheatin' wifeor the dead soldier overseaswho saved his mis'rable lifeit's the burden of eighty-proofthat's been weighing him downand ev'ry ounce he swallowsweighs a hundred poundsa lifetime of sour rainon an old sagging roofsomething's gotta give, how long can he livewith the burden of eighty-proofhe's draining away by the drop,he hates himself but he can't stopthough his poor life is at stakenight's are cold but strangers are colder,he needs warm hands not cold shouldersto give him strength to fin'lly shakethe burden of eighty-proofthat's been weighing him downand ev'ry ounce he swallowsweighs a hundred poundsa lifetime of sour rainon an old sagging roofsomething's gotta give, how long can he livewith the burden of eighty-proof(c)2003 Robert George