Old Mountain Joe

there is a man they call old mountian Joe
who lives in a cabin way up in the snow
high up in the hills, way back in the cold
where the air is thin and hardly none would go

once known and praised by all around
as the best athlete in our little town 
long before he went off to a war
to fight in a place on another shore

folks talked about him, how he somehow changed
when back from Vietnam he finally came
then folks shamed him with spite in their eyes
some spit in his face when home he arrived

I thought what a shame, this shouldn't be
to despise such a man that went overseas
and risked his life and from home took  leave
to go fight a war to keep others free

I said I must go, so I made a plan
to hike up there and find this man
to climb the rugged hills and see his lot
for a glimpse of this man that the town forgot

I climbed to his spot, where the view was  grand
I looked down and scoured over the low down land
where we all lived, down out of the cold
and rarely got sight of old mountain Joe

I approached the shack, as it came into sight
saw old Joe cutting some wood out back
then I nervously yelled, "Hey mountain Joe,
I've come to visit from the town below"

I was tired and weak from my journey hard
was thirsty and hungry from the miles I trod
old Joe just grinned and gave me a nod
but my eyes were afixed on the axe in the yard

but we finally sat and shared some food
he began to tell of things that he only knew
how he came up high to live in the sky
how he'd wished many times that he had died

said he'd fought by the side of the bravest man
so long ago in that far away land
they were brothers in battle, as they fought along
beside each other to see the other home

then one day together, way out on partol
said he spotted a sniper way down by the road
bullets started flying their way all around
no time for cover that could be found

he went on to tell how this man gave his life
who  covered him up, to stop the bullets path
with the man as a shield, he said " I survived,
but there laid your dad as I watched him die"

he said he was taken and years went by
being kept as a prisoner though yet alive
and spent every day wishing he was the one
who had taken those bullets and his life was done

Joe told me the story as he went on
how his brother in arms had a son back home
said my dad was a hero, his body shipped home
was ashamed he had lived, while my dad was gone

I sat and I cried while this story he told
then I hugged an old man that I'd never known
now I've lived all these years but I finally know
the story of a man called old mountain Joe

I often still visit this man I now know
who lives in a cabin way up in the snow
high up in the hills, way back in the cold
where the air is thin and hardly none still go

where still lives a man called old mountain Joe