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They've met at Kelly's Diner, for a morning cup of coffee, every day but Sunday, for nigh' on fifteen years. And once in a blue moon, they stop in at Lucky's Tavern, to shoot the breeze and, hoist a round of beers. They talk about the weather, and the last time they went fishing, and lie about the ones, that got away. Lingering in the parking lot, they trade bits of information, with anyone who'll, pass the time of day. Jessie says he's heard from his son in Oklahoma, thinks maybe he'll go see him, in the fall. |
He forgot to mention, he hadn't been invited, and he had been the one, who'd made the call. Willie thinks his daughter, may come home for Christmas, wonders if he ought to, get a tree, He has a little money saved, to buy her something pretty, but he ain't made up his mind, what it will be. Charlie, he just listens, cause he ain't got nobody, since Molly died, it's just been him and Mac. By Charlotte (Perdue) Perry |
Dogs ain't much on conversations, and though he often talks to Molly, its not the same when, someone don't talk back. Willie wipes his face, with a faded, old bandana, complains his left knee's, giving him a fit. Charlie's feeling poorly too, says he'll see them later, thinks he may go home, and rest a bit. Just three lonely people, running out of time, Willie, Jess, and Charlie, What's in a name? When you're heading down the back stretch out of control, life's a one way ticket on a runaway train. |