| He’s just a drunk
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| An old salty dog
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| Stagger, you drink and then fall
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| Unaware that your life is held up against the wall
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| Aching, just dying inside
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| Still you cling on tight to your obstinate pride
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| I knew a man at the end of the bar
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| Wore a look of erosion, some old battle scars
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| Told many stories, none of them bright
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| If you bought him liberations, he spun them all night
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| Started out in Normandy, moved right onto France
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| The battle of Berlin and more veteran partance
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| At the end this generation, not like the last
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| Kids today need to learn from the past
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| Getting to loud barkeeper gives the hook
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| All the patrons laugh so hard the dive nearly shook
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| Into the alley he goes furious and irate
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| Expletives and threats babbled in hate
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| Finally he collapses down to the asphalt
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| Battered mug and lacerations, it’s his fault
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| Bystanders tap numbers for the ambulance call
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| Salty dog going for an E. Are. |
| Haul
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| Salt you stagger away and then fall
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| Continuously stubborn and defiant through it all
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| Vet you’ll rattle, bemoan and berate
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| People not backing ideals out of date
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| What he doesn’t relize
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| Is he’s the enemy of him
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| What he can’t see
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| Is he’s stuck in yesterday
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| Battle emt’s, they try to help him
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| Inside self imposed defiance, he’d rather swim
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| Inside of him, a crazy death wish
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| I knew a man at the end of the bar
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| With a vfw jacket and some old battle scars
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| Did you hear the news?
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| Stagger’s wish came true |