Poor man south of Salt Lake, can't get a break.
The tax men from D.C., won't let the man be.
The poor man has nothing, they've taken it all.
All the poor man has left, are rocks in his skull.

Rocks in his skull, cause life isn't crappy.
He's changed his life, his dead pappy is happy.
The Angels watch oer him , he's nothing to fear.
All the way to the end, he will endure.

At least he can pray for a change in the weather.
Pick up some roadkill so him and the dogs eat better.
He has a porch to sit on and the toilet still works.
He has a few of the necessitities and a few perks.

The church isn't far, so its easy to go.
He has plenty of time to work on his eternal soul.
He watches the politics, it don't cost to get mad.
He ponders over how bad he's been had.

He waits for visitors that never come.
No one wants to hear him beating his gums.
He dreams of the old days, thanking God he's alive.
His friends are all dead, but he survived.

His back always hurts, but why complain.
He can still walk if it doesn't rain.
He doesn't have kids and he doesn't have money.
Sometimes he tells jokes, sometimes they're funny.

Life goes on, he grows older each day.
His dogs watch over him so he'll be okay.
He don't care much for democrats, but really who does.
Writing of their foibles, gives him a buzz.

He's happy with nothing, imagine that.
It don't mean he's happy with democrats.
He keeps his covenants, it gives him endurance.
He's atoned for his sins so he's got insurance.

Life will go on and he'll be okay.
He's got his faith, they can't take it away.
He will spread God's word, he'll do what he can.
His epitaph will be "He was a Godfearing man"
D.L. Crockett -- 8/20/23