|
He said his prayers in the barroom |
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Whisky was his holy wine |
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And the bar became an alter |
|
His friends were angels in the their time |
|
His hand was steady on the glass |
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And he knew the pain would pass |
|
As he drank the whisky down |
|
They watched him roll around the town |
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Was he right or was he wrong |
|
To find the answer in a song |
|
He died believing to the end |
|
Was he right or was he wrong |
|
Was he right or was he wrong |
|
To find the answer in a song |
|
He died believing to the end |
|
Was he right or was he wrong |
|
And on the morning when he died |
|
Nobody stood around and cried |
|
We all headed for the bar |
|
And took it just a bit too far |
|
Was he right or was he wrong |
|
To find the answer in a song |
|
He died believing to the end |
|
Was he right or was he wrong |
