mah maou

I knew a man what was stronger than steel,
done shot dead after stealin’ some meals.

Didn’t give a fuck, nor a fuck on his brain.
As J. Edwin Campbell: BLAM! He gone like the train.

A foot on his neck — one on his left arm.
Tossed out the Navy and fed on green corn.

You live righteous, so you say what you will,
though I bet he never crept up on your windowsill.

“Now,” says I, “they don’t make ‘em like that,”
and I grabs up my cane and I grabs up my hat.