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The hulk of a man with a beer in
his hand looked like a drunk old fool,
And I knew that if I hit him
right, I could knock him off that stool.
But everybody said, "Watch
out -- that's Tiger Man McCool.
He's had a whole lot of
fights, and he always come out the winner.
Yeah, he's a winner."
But I'd had myself about five too
many, and I walked up tall and proud,
I faced his back and I faced
the fact that he'd never stooped or bowed.
I said, "Tiger Man, you're a
pussycat," and a hush fell on the crowd,
I said, "Let's you and me go
outside and see who's the winner"
Well, he gripped the bar with one
big hairy hand and he braced against the wall,
He slowly looked up from his
beer -- my God, that man was tall.
He said, "Boy, I see you're a
scrapper, so just before you fall,
I'm gonna tell you just a
little what a means to be a winner."
He said, "You see these bright
white smilin' teeth, you know they ain't my own.
Mine rolled away like
Chiclets down a street in San Antone.
But I left that person cursin',
nursin' seven broken bones.
And he only broke three of
mine, and that make me a winner."
He said, "Behind his grin, I got a
steel pin that holds my jaw in place.
A trophy of my most
successful motorcycle race.
And every mornin' when I wake
and touch this scar across my face,
It reminds me of all I got by
bein' a winner.
Now my broken back was the dyin'
act of handsome Harry Clay
That sticky Cincinnatti night
I stole his wife away.
But that woman, she gets
uglier and meaner every day.
But I got her, boy, and
that's what makes me a winner.
You gotta speak loud when you
challenge me, son, 'cause it's hard for me to hear
With this twisted neck and
these migraine pains and this cauliflower ear.
'N' if it weren't for this
glass eye of mine, I'd shed a happy tear
To think of all you'll get by
bein' a winner.
I got arthuritic elbows, boy, I
got dislocated knees,
From pickin' fights with
thunderstorms and chargin' into trees.
And my nose been broke so
often I might lose it if I sneeze.
And, son, you say you still
wanna be a winner?
My spine is short three vertebrae
and my hip is screwed together.
My ankles warn me every time
there'll be a change in weather.
Guess I kicked too many
asses, and when the kicks all get together,
They sure can slow you down
when you're a winner.
My knuckles are so swollen I can
hardly make a fist.
Who would have thought old
Charlie had a blade taped to his wrist?
And my blind eye's where he
cut me, and my good eye's where he missed.
Yeah, you lose a couple of
things when you're a winner. |
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My head is just a bunch of clumps
and lumps and bumps and scars
From chargin' broken bottles
and buttin' crowded bars.
And this hernia -- well, it
only proves a man can't lift a car.
But you're expected to do it
all when you're a winner.
Got a steel plate inside my skull,
underneath this store-bought hair.
My pelvis is aluminum from
takin' ladies' dares.
And if you had a magnet, son,
you could lift me off my chair.
I'm a man of steel, but I'm
rustin' -- what a winner.
Igot a perforated ulcer, I got
strictures and incisions.
My prostate's barely holdin'
up from those all-night collisions.
And I'll have to fight two of
you because of my double vision.
You're lookin' sick, son --
that ain't right for a winner.
Winnin' that last stock-car rce
cost me my favorite toes.
Winnin' that factory
foreman's job, it browned and broke my nose.
And these hemorrhoids come
from winnin' all them goddamn rodeos.
Sometimes it's a pain in the
butt to be a winner.
In the war, I got the Purple
Heart, that's why my nerves are gone.
And I ruined my liver in
drinkin' contests, which I always won.
And I should be retired now,
rockin' on my lawn,
But you losers keep comin' on
-- makin' me a winner.
When I walk, you can hear my
pelvis rattle, creak and crack
From my great Olympic
Hump-Off with that nymphomaniac,
After which I spent the next
six weeks in traction on my back,
While whe walked off smilin'
-- leavin' me the winner.
Now, as I kick in your family
jewels, you'll notice my left leg drags,
And this jacket's kinda
padded up where my right shoulder sags,
And there's a special part of
me I keep in this paper bag,
And I'll show it to you -- if
you want to see all of the winner.
So I never play the violin and I
seldom dance or ski.
They say there never was a
hero brave and strong as me.
But when you're this year's
hero, son, you're next year's used-to-be.
And that's the facts of life
-- when you're a winner.
Now, you remind me a lot of my
younger days with your knuckles clenchin' white.
But, boy, I'm gonna sit right
here and sip this beer all night.
And if there's somethin' you
gotta prove by winnin' some silly fight,
Well, OK, I quit, I lose,
son, you're the winner."
So I stumbled from that barroom
not so tall and not so proud,
And behind me I could hear
the hoots of laughter from the crowd.
But my eyes still see and my
nose still works and my teeth are still in my mouth.
And y'know...I guess that
makes me...a winner.
llustrations
by Brad Holland |
