Good old boy
by Steven Clotzman

He's a good old boy, sure to make 'em proud
He’s a good old boy, never cries too loud
From the twinkle in his daddy’s eye, they know he’ll be a man
As they rock him in the cradle, they say he’ll do the best he can
They’re handing him a silver spoon and a very simple plan
That good old boy, he’s a born American

That good old boy does his best in school
He learns to read and write and break almost every rule.
When the teachers catch him cheating, it leaves him so annoyed
His daddy shrugs his shoulders, he says “you know, boys will be boy!”
His mama can’t help spoiling him, he’s her pride and joy
He’s a good old boy, one the other kids avoid

Good old boy, serves his country well
If it were up to him, he’d send the flag burners to hell
The Ivy League aren’t sissies, it can be quite hard
They play tackle football, he’s even got the scars
the war, it does not frighten him, he’s glad to do his part
He’s a good old boy, too bad Vietnam’s so far

Good old boy’s never paid the rent
He says he’d like to be king but he’ll settle for president
He’s standing on the platform, saying it’s a crime
The way they use the common man each and every time
He offers me a nickel but he’s asking for a dime
That good old boy, ain’t he so sublime?

Good old boy, takes care of his friends
Got one at the door and another just around the bend
He never has no worries or troubles with the law
‘Cause no one would dare testify to anything they saw
He got one judge in his pocket and another in his craw
He’s a good old boy, just you ask his ma

Good old boy, living in the big white house
He’s got the gasoline and he’s not afraid to douse
He makes the neighbors nervous, they’ll privately admit
They say that even the company men behind his back just spit
If I wasn’t already unemployed, you know I’d be tempted to quit
That good old boy, he’s got the match now lit (oh shit!)

Good old boy, ain’t nothing that he lacks
He got the hand of God slapping him on the back
He prays each day for guidance against those who deceive
He gives himself to faith and stands by all that he believes
And if that somehow fails him, there’s a switchblade up his sleeve
He’s a good old boy, If you don't like it, you can leave.

Good old boy, he’s walking real tall
That good old boy, he’s bound to kill us all
He’s says there is no end to what he’ll do to keep us free
He’s fishing out our enemies, wherever they might be
And the price to pay in small, he says, as you and I here bleed
He’s a good old boy, just you wait and see!

© 2004 & 2005 Steven Clotzman - all rights reserved