Bobby Angel’s ode to a veteran of WWI …
Who found a home as a hermit in the swamp.
Man of Honor
Words and Music by Bobby Angel
Billy Joiner was a man of honor, a husband a son, a good friend and a father who woke up every morning and went out on the trail and returned in the evening guaranteed without fail and always with a story (or two or three) to tell, no matter how deep the drought there was always water in his well, in a voice when he said it sounded like a yell.
Bill Joiner was a man of honor, a brother with sisters and a loving father with a sparkle in his eye and a smile on his face who walked at an ever quickening pace, a man on a mission to find the next place and always getting there sooner than later, post haste, unless there was a story then he had a minute (or ten) to waste.
He’d tell you about the snail kites swimming in the breeze and the water in the strand how its already up to the knees, and how he was a voice that spoke up for the trees or give a bear his kerchief if it had to sneeze; He had his finger on the pulse of what it meant to be free
Billy Joiner was a man of honor, a friendly face in the crowd you could always count on like a brother who liked to tell you all the things he saw and no, not pieces of it, he told it to you all and repeat it the next day until it grew so tall he was never at a loss of words that I can ever recall.
Billy Joiner is the man of the hour, we plant this tamarisk tree in your honor in hopes that it will leaf out and be replenished by the showers and give shade when it blooms by its many flowers to match the stories you told us hour after hour
Billy Joiner you were a friend to all and like this tree in our memories you will always stand tall.
There Goes Bob Three
Words and music by Bobby Angel
Going up to read the writing on the wall, etched in blood by the scratch of a claw. When he got to where it was, the only thing he saw was water filling slowly in the print of his paw.
Gotta turn quick to see,
There goes Bob 3.
Listen closely to the ivory bill weep, in the middle of the night it will bring you to your feet. Tip toe to the window, then listens to the crickets cheep. They say go where your going, take what you wanna keep
Fifty years since its been heard,
Now there goes Bob the Third.
No time to second guess the price of a sparrow, or the life of an stork brought down by an arrow, and all bets are off when the match of Nero burns it all down, takes it all back to zero
Nothing comes for free,
And now there goes Bob T.
Sometimes I have a small passing thought that the trouble nowadays is watching what we fought being frittered away over time by default by bulldozers that no human force can halt.
Engines are all gased and lubed,
There goes Bob Cubed
Take a deep breath, swallow it all in. Ospreys got a fish, its flapping its fin. Going to his nest, going back to his kin. Never did nothing not worth trying again. Like a bird flying free …
There goes Bob 3D