The Man Who Shot Himself

He did not seem much like
A man with a problem
He was small he was quiet
He dressed neat and shaved
His job was five days in a brick making plant
And he drank a few beers
On his other two days

His music was country, his faith was in Jesus
In fact he had pictures of
Christ in his house
He never once questioned his daily existence
Nor wondered a lot what his life was about

He was fond of his pistol and
He cleaned it too often
He'd go down by the river
Shoot driftwood all day
Stare out the window and sip on the cold beer
Sometimes he was happy like children who play

And some Saturday morning he
Came to my father
And said Virgil would you cut
My hair for me please
And my father was handy
With razors and scissors
Sometimes he cut hair with the
Guys on our street

As small boys would do I
Sat watchin' my father
Dad kidded him some bout his jealous wife
The man thanked my father and
He offered to pay him
Went back to his house and
He took his own life