Thursday, January 7, 2010

Wandering William

Uncle William wandered all over the place
'till he fell in love, then he stayed.
A baby on the way, he tried to settle down.

Maybe he didn't know what he wanted,
didn't know by what, just knew he was haunted,
maybe it had to do with reasons he'd first gone.

Or maybe a wanderin' man just keeps movin on.

It might have been another life.
It might have been the farm, the baby, the wife.
It might have killed him.
He needed to be free, Wandering William.

He stayed on 'till the baby was born.
I guess he didn't want to leave his wife alone.
He only left on Saturday's to go to the general store.
One day when Uncle William walked out the door,
he knew he'd never again walk back in any more.

Great-Grand-Daddy came by later on.
He saw the buggy and the mule, saw Uncle William was gone.
He saw the mule needed feedin' so he walked to the tobacco barn.
Uncle William had left his baby and wife.
What was left of him slumped over a furnace pipe.
A gun in his hand, William wandered on.

I guess a wandrin' man just keeps movin' on.

It might have been another life etc.

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