| He stared at the skyline with a look of avarice | |
| he smelled the diesel of a passing train | |
| he fell with both hands still in his pockets | |
| killed by the boom and washed away | |
| Oh no what a tragedy | |
| say what you want about him | |
| I say goddamn | |
| He wasn't no drug dealer momma | |
| he was a dancer | |
| with the dull eyes of a steer and a lions mane | |
| bear me no public opinion it never answers | |
| whatever intuition cannot explain. | |
| Oh no what a tragedy | |
| say what you want about him | |
| I'll say goddamn | |
| No recognition by the state nor senate | |
| no epitaph to sing aloud his sweet name | |
| no fourteen stations and the nineteenth sonnet | |
| he weren't no wealthy man but he was a man all the same | |
| Oh no what a tragedy | |
| say what you want about him | |
| Oh no what a fucking tragedy | |
| say what you want about him | |
| I say goddamn | |
| It weren't the rain that killed him | |
| and it weren't his muddy ears | |
| it weren't the rain that killed him | |
| he was killed by the boom | |
| he was killed by the boom |
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