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his worn and scuffed boots shuffled down the street
without a care in the world as he smoked his favorite cigar
he was in his own private world that could never be beat
he heard laughter and blasting horns from the passing cars
and got whispers and stares from strangers he'd never meet
his worn and scuffed boots shuffled down the street
without a care in the world as he smoked his favorite cigar
he was in his own private world that could never be beat
he heard laughter and blasting horns from the passing cars
and got whispers and stares from strangers he'd never meet
That's beautiful, shuckins. It really is
Not wanting to piss on your fire though, I'm afraid it's not a limerick. Sorry, I'm such a pedant.
I'm still waiting for the whiskey to whisk me away
And I'm still waiting for the ashtray to lead me astray
Josh Ritter, "Other Side"
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