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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2206150
by Rolly
Rated: E · Lyrics · Tribute · #2206150
A song about Willie Nelson Political choices that may ruined his career as a singer,
Who's Going To Bury Old Willie?

Friday, 22 November, 2019
12:09 PM

As I wander the dustbowl valley
I noticed below me,
An open grave with buzzards
Eating away poor old Willie...

Curious where he
has been throughout the years,
And when i look down upon him
his hands still wiping
away his tears...

Who's going to bury old Willie?
died from Whiskey
and loneliness too..
There he lays empty
In his dust bowl grave...
The Poor old penniless man
had no one To bury him,
A huge price to pay
Of all your sins...

Who's going to bury
Poor old Willie in,
There he lays rottening,
in the hot desolate sun...
Not even with his rifle
or with his guns,
Just a beat up old guitar
no playable strings
Coming from his guitar...
Sounds like music
Coming from a dead man's
Very last song.
Who's going to bury Willie
When evil has cashed in
All his sinful sins,
As he lays there dead,
Under the hot
desolate desert sun.

Who's going to bury
This desolate old soul,
There he lays
In a dust filled pool.
Who's going to bury
Poor old Willie in?
He committed so much sin
And so his fans walked away,
Never to listen to his songs
Not one even stayed,
And so there he lays
In his desolate dusty grave,
Gripping his guitar
Without any strings....
Poor old Willie
Sure did himself in.
Singing his life away
Under the desolate hot sun...

Who's going to bury poor old Willie in?
Not a single person went to his grave,
when I look down upon him
As vultures eat him away,
Makes you really think
How life was for him in
every possible way...
Lifeless as can be
No sound from his guns,
No music from his guitar
Just the wind blowing in
the hot desolate sun...

Who's going to bury
Poor old Willie in?
On my horse I passed him
Looking down at old Willie
wiping tears from his eyes...
So I must be on my way
I hoped you enjoyed
your desolate old grave...
It appears the devil
Took your soul away,
No Gods Angels
Going to save you today.
Because Who's going to bury Willie
As my horse takes me away....

Who's going to bury
Poor old Willie today,
who's going to bury Willie
Not one soul helps him today....
So the buzzards
Were the only ones,
visiting his grave
In the hot barren sun..
Where they slowly eat him away,
Who's going to bury
Poor old Willie in,
All I can do is
pray for all his sins,
As the devil continues
to take him away,
Poor old Willie's soul
was taken away...

All there is left
Is his garments and guitar,
no more music from a man
That played that beat up old guitar...
Just a bag of bones that rattles and
serenade with the winds,
singing the only song
No one will bury Willie in...
There he lays dead,
as the pale horse comes
To collect his pitiful soul ...
and the rest rots
in the Desolate hot sun.

No one buried poor old Willie in,
his soul is gone
And our memories of him fades,
Poor old Willie was
carried away from all his sins,
When the devil came and did him in...
No one is there to bury poor old Willie in,
As I pass him,
My horse did not stop,
Off I go into the desolate hot sun
with my guns and
my pitchfork at my side,
To carry old Willie away
to a place where he may not like....
And so this is where Willie's story ends,
No one to bury him,
Not even one to remember him,
one old man, took the wrong path to sin
and the old devil
surely did him in....

No one to ever,
bury old Willie in,
There he lays
Armed with his guitar
Without any strings,
no longer making music
As his melodies buried him in.

The new generation
Will never know who he is,
just some old fool
Who made the wrong decisions,
Died in his grave
no one to bury him in.
Poor old Willy's life
finally comes to an end,
No one there to bury,
Bury this old fool in...
So this is where the story ends
Poor old Willie lies there in an open grave.
no one to bury him in,
In an open grave to let in
the hot desolate desert sun,
Who's going to bury
Poor old Willie from the hot desolate sun.

(Copyrighted)

Roland Gauthier 2019
© Copyright 2019 Rolly (rolandgauthier at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2206150