A story in three parts.
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Lyrics
Poor Willie
Willie was a young boy, just ten when they took away his game.
Cowboys and Indians in the backyard, he always played a brave.
They said it was a crime
They said he’d understand why, in time
He was a young man playing parts in shows and plays but not for long
Death of a Salesperson was not how Willie thought it ought to be
But there were no more salesmen.
They’d been outlawed, too.
Poor Willie he died with no name
They took it away
Poor Willie some lady complained
And they took his name
He was a broken man when they took away his dirty little name
Can’t have your friends all feeling mad now, Willie. What a shame.
A little bit of flesh
For some it was just too fresh.
Poor Willie he died with no name
They took it away
Poor Willie some lady complained
And they took his name
© M. Wich 2006