THE OLD DRY GUY AND THE BATH

THE OLD DRY GUY AND THE BATH

The old timers were all settin around the general store
I think they’d been there forever or a few days more
hocking up gossip and spit and an occasional snore

And is it’s always been in the West of the East
the one who knew most said the least
He had a face like old harness and one bad eye
to myself I called him “the old dry guy”

Late January one year the old boys were a buzz
old Jeb had got scalded and burned off some fuzz
He’d been bathing in his kitchen in the old tin tub
and reached across for the kettle to warm up the rub
slipping he’d spilt it and lost some skin and some hair
and the boys were all speculatin’ how much and where

They’d talked it around for about three hours or more
when the ‘old dry guy’ moved in his chair by the door

They all got real quiet and leaned closer to hear

He said

“Serves the damn fool right, takin a bath this time of year”