There was a man, a deep thinker he
committed to uphold all manner of chivalry
I knew him fairly well

He sought to contain a presence of mind
amid verbal foes formed in battle lines
allies he found, in a whisky well

To each he said: Spare me please your macho intrigue

do you not know you're out of your league
Retreat while you may

But in the cold and sober light
he could not see his foes to fight
unseen in the light of day

In the end he courted too close
an old friend turned deadly host

set 'em up Joe, one last time
Winter and wisdom sail a southerly wind
converging as one on death's open hand

this open hand of mine