Squealers - Jack Hemingway Cried

I suppose if a man has something once
Always something of it remains

The scotsmen in their kilts
Highwaymen on patrol
Men of the thunderdome
Convicts on parole
Danger on the prowl
Captives ready for war
Mind and body numb
You've all heard this story before

And when the old man died
Jack Hemingway cried
And the birds flew high
Up into the night sky
And the stars stood still
They all refused to yield
The only real sound
A shotgun wound

Caught up in the heat
Unrest in the streets
Farewell up in arms
No ol' man, just the sea
A star that burned so bright
Has met its match, its maker
The torch is up for grabs
But look around
I mean, there's no takers

And when the old man died
Jack Hemingway cried
And the birds flew high
Up into the night sky
And the stars stood still
They all refused to yield
The only real sound
A shotgun wound

This is for you, Jack
Filler for your soul
Killer to your mind
Poison to your body
Now ain't that a bind
A man of many stories
Of modesty, of honesty
But a feel of danger around him
An evil man down from the badlands

And when the old man died
Jack Hemingway cried
And the birds flew high
Up into the night sky
And the stars stood still
They all refused to yield
The only real sound
A shotgun wound
From the old cabin
Or the backseat of the car
Wherever he's found
Ya know he stood tall
And the final salute
Better be fireworks
Cannon fire, bagpipes
And a round of revolvers
Oh the old man died
And ol' Jack cried
Birds, birds in the sky
So fly, my birds, fly fly fly
So raise a glass
Of whiskey on the rocks, adieu
You poet of the streets
Tonight we drink for you

Written by:
Veikko Hoffman

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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