(VAI) Kick The Bucket

Songtekst

(Long Cut) [Verse 1] Old Jed swore he’d live forever, Said death could kiss his ass. Worked twelve hours in August heat, Drank whiskey from a mason glass. Built his barn with crooked timber, Bent the nails with calloused hands. Said, “A man ain’t worth a damn If he don’t leave scars upon the land.” He laughed too loud, He cursed too much, He fought like fire in dry old grass. And every soul from county line Said someday that mule would crash. But every Friday after sunset, He’d roll through town in that old Ford, Mud on boots and blood on knuckles, Still somehow looking like the Lord. ⸻ [Chorus] He kicked the bucket, Bought the farm, Taking the big dirt nap. Hung his boots up on the fence, Never once looked back. One more smoke, One more laugh, One more round of sin— Then the ground said, “Son… come on home.” And slowly pulled him in. ⸻ [Verse 2] Miss Loretta ran the diner, Poured the coffee black as coal. Knew your secrets by your silence, Read your trouble in your soul. Fed the drunks and fed the preachers, Fed the liars, fed the saints. Fed the men who swore they’d change And watched ‘em do exactly what they ain’t. Jed came in most every Tuesday, Sat booth three against the wall. Never smiled much, never ordered— She’d bring his plate before he’d call. Eggs and bacon. Black coffee. Two sugars he’d never use. Some folks talk with words and weather— Some folks talk with who they choose. ⸻ [Chorus] She kicked the bucket, Bought the farm, Taking the big dirt nap. Left her apron on the hook, Never came back. One last pie, One last joke, One last “Honey, sit.” Then eternity leaned in close… And that… was it. ⸻ [Verse 3] Mayor, mechanic, preacher, outlaw, Banker, butcher, local queen— Death don’t care what truck you drove Or how important you have been. Doesn’t read your résumé, Doesn’t care who knows your name. It just waits with patient hands And calls us all the same. Old Jed laughed when folks got nervous, Said, “Boys, don’t fear what’s overdue. Death ain’t hunting—death is farming. Sooner or later… it harvests you.” Loretta heard him, shook her head, Wiped the counter with a rag. Said, “Big talk from a man whose liver Looks like something in a bag.” Whole damn diner started laughing— Even preacher dropped his guard. Funny how the grave gets lighter When the living laugh that hard. ⸻ [Bridge – guitars come in like weather] Some go quiet… Some go loud… Some leave debt… Some leave proud… Some leave tractors. Some leave rings. Some leave barns… And busted things. Some leave whiskey. Some leave scars. Some leave stories In roadside bars. And all that swagger… All that plan… Eventually gets measured In six feet of land. ⸻ [Verse 4] First went Jed in early winter, Heart gave out behind the shed. Boots still muddy. Gloves still on. Half a sentence left unsaid. Then came spring, and Miss Loretta Sat down in her diner chair. Cup half full. Smile half crooked. And just… never made it anywhere. Now the booth sits mostly empty, Coffee cools a little fast. But every Tuesday round about noon Folks swear they feel them pass. A laugh out back. A chair that creaks. A bootstep near the map. Like somebody’s still in town… Just taking… the big dirt nap. ⸻ [Verse] Now kids who never met old Jed Still point toward that weathered barn. Still hear Loretta in the coffee steam On bitter Georgia mornings born. Boot prints fade, and names grow quiet, Wood goes soft, and iron rusts— But some folks leave a shape behind That outlives flesh, and bone, and dust. So if you’re gonna burn your daylight, If you’re gonna spend your borrowed map— Leave enough of you in the living… Before you take that big dirt nap. [Final Chorus – full band] Kicked the bucket, Bought the farm, Taking the big dirt nap. Left the barstool warm awhile… Then never wandered back. One more kiss, One more lie, One more midnight scrap— That’s the whole damn human race… Kick the bucket. Buy the farm. Take… The big dirt nap.