Or given to defeat
He found himself a new hobby
Leaving the alcohol underfeet
So he gathered up some animals
Built himself an unconventional farm
With a few Pigeons and Pheasants
And an old hound dog
To protect the race horse in the barn
When his ageing body failed him
Many came to pay their final respects
Discussing all the kind things he'd done
From lending out his truck
and paying a friends financial debt
My father wasn't a church go'er
Believing the walls would cave in on him
for passed transgressions he'd done
Still I think he met God somewhere
Simply because of his selflessness
and courage to overcome
I don't know if there are Angels
Humble enough to walk our carnal streets
But if there are
I'd bet they'd dress in old barn clothes
And they would walk with pigeon feet
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