Big Joe could hold his likker,
he was a drinkin’ man.
Corn squeezin’s by the jug full,
store beer drunk can by can.
He staggered home on a chilly night,
left his car right where it stood.
She’d be waitin’ with fire in her eyes,
the whole town understood.
Near five long mile, home from town
Joe wore plumb out half way,
Laid his head on cold, cold ground,
And slept ‘til break of day.
Stopped at the crick to wash up clean,
The crick was runnin’ high.
He fell in deep and washed down stream
and thought he was gonna die.
Powerful service for poor old Joe,
The preacher spouted long.
His wife cried tears the whole durn time,
we sang the Amazin’ song.
Joe’s favorite bar has closed down tight,
his wife has sued the state.
He rests in peace, dried out at last,
of booze and crick, sans mate.