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For forty years he worked there.
He never missed a shift!
He was known as a GOOD MAN
They said he had a gift.
His daughters he molested
They can't quite understand
That their father, who behaved so
Was really a GOOD MAN.
Those Fridays that were payday,
He'd get drunk and beat his wife.
His neighbors, if you asked them,
Said he led a real good life.
His sons he screamed and yelled at
Told them to act like men!
One committed suicide
The other's in the pen.
He went to church, he paid his bills
Always did what he was told.
Worked hard, he was a GOOD MAN
Still is now that he's old.
Is the measure of a GOOD MAN
One that's held up from afar?
Or is it not inside our heart?
We KNOW who we are!
...kml ...aka...articulate