Week Forty-Six: “Robert Duvall in the Bowery”

 

 

Horton Foote has wrote a hit
and only Bob Duvall can star in it
It’s about southern drunks, but Bob don’t drink
so he went to the Bowery

In the fifties men wore hats
and women hid their shame in gloves
a drunkard only has two loves
his bottle and…something else

Walk for me, so I can walk that way on stage
Talk for me, so I can talk that way on stage
Walk for me, so I can walk that way on stage
Talk for me, so I can talk that way on stage

Down an alley soaked in piss
Who’d’a though it’d come to this?
He found a bar he’d been told about
by his roommate Gene

What a scene it was inside
like bedlam soaked in Irish tears
Bob Duvall had three whole beers
when Old Pap caught his eye

And Bob said
Walk for me, so I can walk that way on stage
Talk for me, so I can talk that way on stage
Walk for me, so I can walk that way on stage
Talk for me, so I can talk that way on stage

But Old Pap didn’t shake and clown
he bought a glass of something brown,
said, “Here’s the breakfast of champions
of John Coltranes and Lionel Hamptions

Mister you may think you’re smart
You got some bread to play a part
And life is swell and booze is rot
but it’s the other way around

You bet I learned to stand up straight
from sober little pricks like you
God knows I’m an actor too
the whole world is my stage

And Old Pap said
Walk for me, so I can walk that way on stage
Talk for me, so I can talk that way on stage
Walk for me, so I can walk that way on stage
Talk for me, so I can talk that way on stage
Walk for me, so I can walk that way on stage
Talk for me, so I can talk that way on stage
Walk for me, so I can walk that way on stage
Talk for me, so I can talk that way on stage

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