The Winner
The hulk of a man with a beer in his hand looked like a drunk old fool
And I knew if I hit him right, why I could knock him off a that stool
But everybody they said, âWatch out, hey thatâs Tiger Man McCool
Heâs had a whole lot of fights, and heâs always come out a winner.â
Yeah, heâs a winner
But Iâd had myself about five too many and I walked up tall and proud
I faced his back and I faced the fact that he had never stooped or bowed
I said, âTiger Man, youâre a pussycatâ, and a hush fell on the crowd
I said letâs you and me go outside and see whoâs a winner
Well he gripped the bar with one big hairy hand and he braced against the wall
He slowly looked up from his beer, my God that man was tall
He said, âBoy, I see youâre a scrapper, so just before you fall
Iâm gonna tell you just a little, âbout what it means to be a winner.â
He said, âNow you see these bright white smiling teeth, you know they ainât my own
Mine rolled away like Chiclets down the street in San Antone
But I left that person, cursinâ, nursinâ seven broken bones
And he, uh, only broke, uh, three of mine
That makes me the winner
He said, âNow behind this grin I got steel pins, that holds my jaw in place
A trophy of my most successful motorcycle race
And each morning when I wake and touch this scar across my face
It reminds me of all I got by being a winner
Now this broken back was a dyinâ act of a handsome Harry Clay
That sticky Cincinnati night I stole his wife away
But that woman she gets uglier, and she gets meaner every day
But I got her, boy, and that make me a winner
He said, âYou gotta speak loud when you challenge me, son
âCause itâs hard for me to hear
With this twisted neck and these migraine pains
And this big old cauliflower ear
And if it wasnât for this glass eye of mine, why Iâd shed a happy tear
To think of all your gonna get by being a winner
I got ar-th-rit-ic elbows, son I got dislocated knees
From picking fights with thunderstorms and charginâ into trees
And my noseâs been broken so often, I might lose it if I sneeze
And son, you say you still wanna be a winner?
Now you remind me of my younger days with your knuckles a-clenchinâ white
But boy, Iâm gonna sit right here and sip this beer all night
And if thereâs somethinâ that you gotta gain or prove
By winning some silly fight
Well, OK, I quit, I lose, youâre the winner
Oh, I stumbled from that barroom, not so tall and not so proud
And behind me I still hear the hoots and laughter of the crowd
But my eyes still see and my nose still works
And my teeth are still in my mouth
And you know, I guess that makes me the winner
|