Old Scratch
Daddy said “don’t cry,”
and it was good advice;
hard blows comin’ ‘round the bend -
you don’t roll the dice.
Nine lives, my lucky stars,
my bones refuse to break;
old cemetery’s underwater,
headstones in the lake.
That Old Scratch,
nothin’ but a troublemaker;
trying to make a strong one weak.
That Old Liar,
Well, he’s tryin’ to take me down;
I’ll drown out his sound in the creek.
Firstborn’s gone on down the road,
called up by Uncle Sam;
my tears flood the Colorado,
bodies buried in the dam.
Old Man Time’s run out on me,
a grandson, gone astray;
I don’t say his name anymore -
met his end on the highway.
That Old Scratch,
nothin’ but a troublemaker;
trying to make a strong one weak.
That Old Liar,
Well, he’s tryin’ to take me down;
I’ll drown out his sound in the creek.
.
.
.
© Savannah Smiley Sterrett 2022