"Somewhere between vodka and death"

standing in the breadline on Saturday morning When I looked back then he was there Vodka Dave and his soul to save With a rosary round his neck And what that fuzz was was that hair That bristled from him everywhere In the breadline there behind me Where someone there gave Vodka Dave A Holy Bible to libel His drinking because such a wreck He was one does not look away And he was thinking of drinking Able to under the table I tried not to let him find me Alone with trouble of my own And yet he did his id his breath His hidden bitterness stinking Unanswered questions in the air Somewhere between vodka and death Some things one does not come thinking Of for the love of Saturday Morning with no warning that way His trouble mine in the breadline When there Vodka Dave was nowhere Somewhere between vodka and death The line moved up and I moved on When I looked back then he was gone +Steven Curtis Lance Copyright MMXI