I used to see him here on the weekends
canadian windsor in his hand
and we'd sit and drink and talk for hours
one night he bought the whole damn place a round

Third generation dirt farmer
gambling was the word that came to mind
he knew another year of drought would kill him
but he always thought everything would work out fine

And he never let her see him lonely
she never saw the bankers letter make him cry
it's got all the makings for another sentimantal guy

Sometimes he'd say he found the answer
and he'd get real quiet and wisper in my ear
said he'd usually come up empty handed
but that's just the way the answers worked 'round here

I used to see him here on the weekends
canadian windsor in his hand
and we'd sit and drink and talk for hours
until one night he burned his whole place to the ground