BLOODY HELL

They take all the good ones
When we need them most
The father, the son
And the last of the ghosts

In shoes far too big
For mere mortals to fill
Forced to partake
Of the bitterest pill

The show must go on, isnt that what they say
Now there isnt a show worth the sell
Bloody Hell
Bloody Hell

Straight as an arrow
Cut like a knife
Burn like a memory
Stuck in my life

Behold the keyholder
Held with such grace
Lines of contentment
Deep on his face

No kind of rehearsal could prepare for the time
Out front as the last curtain fell
Bloody Hell
Bloody Hell

Bloody hell, the mornings were cold
Bloody hell, we were never told
Bloody hell, the whole thing is shifting
Booldy hell, our spirit is lifting
Blood hell

Putting the whole thing to bed on our own
With only the stories to tell
Bloody Hell
Bloody Hell
Bloody Hell
Bloody Hell

© JOE GRAHAM & JIM GRAHAM