@migu music@

Ballad Of Forty Dollars - Tom T. Hall

The man who preached the funeral

Said it really was a simple way to die

He laid down to rest one afternoon

And never opened up his eyes

They hired me and Fred and Joe

To dig the grave and carry up some chairs

It took us seven hours

And I guess, we must have drunk a case of beer

I guess, I ought to go and watch them put him down

But I don't own a suit

And anyway when they start talkin' about

The fire in hell, well, I get spooked

So, I'll just sit here in my truck

And act like I don't know him when they pass

Anyway, when they're all through

I've got to go to work and mow the grass

Well, here they come and who's that

Ridin' in that big ol' shiny limousine

Mmh! look at all that chrome, I do believe

That that's the sharpest thing I've seen

That must belong to his great uncle

Someone said, "He owned a big ol' farm"

When they get parked, I'll mosey down

And look it over, that won't do no harm

Well, that must be the widow in the car

And would you take a look at that?

That sure is a pretty dress

You know, some women do look good in black

Well, he's not even in the ground

And they say that his truck is up for sale

They say, she took it pretty hard

But you can't tell too much behind the veil

Well, listen ain't that pretty

When the bugler plays the, 'Military taps'

I think that when you's in the war

They always hide 'n' play a song like that

Well, here I am and there they go

And I guess, you'd just call it my bad luck

I hope he rests in peace, the trouble is

The fellow owes me forty bucks