Broken Hearts and Broken People

I’ve seen some good ol’ times,
Fueled by beer and halter tops,
Jukeboxes with cheap rhymes,
And the other shoe when it drops.

Thank God for May-o-nnaise,
White bread and the KKK,
We’ll all see happier days,
If we see another day.

He was raised on daytime TV,
The only sitter she could afford.
He looks a lot like me,
And for that I thank the Lord.

Broken hearts and broken people,
Singing’ about their pain,
We’re climbin’ up a steep hill,
I think it’s all profane.

They say, “The sadder, the better,”
Writin’ songs that celebrate hurts,
Now you go out and get her,
And stay away from them perverts.

We’re all broken people,
Singing’ about our pain,
We’re rollin’ down a steep hill,
Doin’ nothin’ but complain.

That TV boy, he grew up,
And bought hisself a gun,
Drank too much and threw up,
And killed hisself… my son.

Broken hearts and broken people,
Not hurtin’ anyone.
Bury me on a high hill.
There’s one more bullet in that gun.

© Roy H. Williams, July 12, 2020

Written at 4AM on a Sunday morning after deciding that I would write a country song in 30 minutes about, “Cheap Beer and Country Music, Mayonnaise and Guns.”