Mr. Lonely
This poor old man, so wise and grayJust sits in his house; reads his Bible and pray
No friends, no family just himself
His piano and whiskey is this only poor mans' wealth
Mind wandering; going outter bounds
Mess with this man believe he's going to stand his ground
To picture his future fate
There ain't no more love in his heart but hate
So much gray hairs, thinks he's wise
The definition of most guys
His heartache, is pain and rough
Fighting for everything he got like a rino. Life is tough
To sit and watch life be slaughtered in yo' eyes
Can mess up any man and make him hide beneath lies
Have no pitty
Been tearing through so much crap his teeth is gritty
Old eyes been seeing more struggle than any camera can catch
Spreading news to these young boys about a life they need to go fetch
Now on his death bed,a tear drop dripping
Nobody around to comfort old man while his life's slipping
A poor old struggle can't you hear his fate falling
Now with death approachong, whiskey still by his side he hears the Lord calling
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