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One Eyed Joe
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Ironhorse Writer
© 4/09/2002
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There he stood, six foot four
I was about to die
The hair, the beard, the way he sneered
Oh yea, only one eye
His face was as a sculpture
Exhuming hidden fears
That time and wind, carved deep within
A project of many years
One Eyed Joe lived down the street
With a three leg-ged dog named Booth
They said he was mad, but I was glad
To eventually know the truth
A biker before it was trendy to be
A man who kept to himself
Who tried the jive, of nine to five
But chucked it on life's back shelf
So there I was, flat on my back
A wheelie gone awry
Looking to be cool. Looking quite the fool
The glare of Joe's one eye
He leaned, he looked, he shook his head
It was then I began to pray
Stretched out his hand, "Listen up, young man.
You will NOT get girls that way."
"Yes, sir, 'spose that's true.
I sure looked pretty lame
Worse thing for me, far as I can see
I think I bent my frame."
Joe let loose a thunderous laugh
"Kid, you and I are alike
To this 'ol coot, ain't nothin' like my scoot.
What say we fix your bike?"
My face said all there was to say
"It's ok kid, I know
I get that stare near everywhere
Crazy 'ol One Eyed Joe."
"A bent up frames easy to fix…
Ya won't have long to wait
But I'm of a mind, people tend to be blind
Some frames just never get straight."
As he helped me fix my bike that day
His words fell into place
"Joe, are we friends?" "Kid, that all depends…
On your baggin' that ugly face."
I laughed so hard I almost cried,
Then blurted, "You should talk."
"Kid, I'm through, she's good as new
Or perhaps you'd like to walk?"
Twenty years since he's passed
The truth I came to know?
There's no guarantee, your two eyes will see,
Better than One Eyed Joe
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