Wisdom From A Stool

You might think that I’m a fool, a-sittin’ on this stool,

But I ain’t broke no rule, and I never have been cruel.

Hard Knocks is my school, Bud Light is my fuel, and I’m as stubborn as a mule.

I don’t know so very much, and I never had the touch,

This barstool is my crutch, and I’m a such and such.

This schooner that I clutch, ain’t helpin’ me that much, too bad the tab is Dutch.

Yesterday is gone, I’d best be movin’ on,

With the cards that I have drawn, I’ll be broke before it’s dawn.

My account is overdrawn, and somewhere near Tucson, my stuff I had to pawn.

I had a big ol’ wreck, nearly broke my neck,

I said what the heck, and wrote a phony check,

No woman can henpeck, a wandering redneck whose memory’s just a speck.

Now if I had some pluck, I mighta’ made a buck,

But it’d be just my luck, to get run over by a truck.

I’m a drunken schmuck, my life has run amok, and times can really suck.

So if you’re kinda’ wise, you just might surmise,

I ain’t such a prize, and my tales are mostly lies,

Look me in the eyes, I don’t wear no tux nor ties, but this barstool’s just my size.

LDT May 14, ‘23