BROCKZEMAN: MUSIC

Written after a story a friend of mine told me about the death of his cousin. When he died he didn't have anything to his name, and my buddy had to give him his suit to be buried in.

My brother Billy and me
We grew up side by side
Whenever you saw one of us out
You knew the other wasn't far behind
And when the fists would fly on main-street
We were always first on the scene
Yeah, we weren't afraid of nothing
Billy and me.

I came of age and grew restless
And I hit out on the road
I was young and green and did not know
What I was searching for.
But it was clear to me if I stayed behind
I'd only find discontent
And when you're palming around in the dark
Its easy to find the devils hand
Before I left I told Billy to get out while he could
Cause one day you'll wake and look in the mirror
And see an old man staring at you
And every time you put off something
The weaker your wings will get
Till you finally find yourself holding on
To a box of old regrets
Idle hands are the devils play things
Ain‚t that what they say
Well, Billy stayed behind only to find
Himself deeper everyday
He started hanging around with that Tommy Brown
I always said that boy had a forked tongue
Billy shot his future into his veins
And let the devil swim into his blood.

(Chorus)
Its kinda funny, I suppose
How you can never help the ones
That you hold close
And all the people
That you love
They're the ones that'll hurt you most.

I found a girl and settled down
500 miles from my home
In a little shack with a river out back
At the end of a county road
One day I called my mama
She said she hadn't heard from Billy in days
But no cause for worry now son you hear.
I just found it a little strange.
Well a week passed by and I'd been working hard
Down at the marble mine
I didn't worry much about Billy
You know how things go sometimes
Then the phone rang that fateful morning
And woke me up at dawn
And my father told me they found Billy dead
With a needle sticking outta his arm.

When Billy died
He had nothing to his name
Fifty-three cents and a book of matches
They found in an old pair of jeans
Mama asked if there was something I could bring
To dress him in
I brought an old blue suit and a pair of shoes
My father gave me way back when.
At the funeral I whispered under my breath
As they laid him down
„ Billy this old suit that I give you
Should keep you warm in the cold, cold ground.
That tie you're wearing was our fathers and his fathers before
And those shoes on your feet should help you run from the devil
And on up to heavens door.