Ballad Of Chuck

Well they say as a child, Charlie's mother would cryHis father would beat him by the shed outsideAnd no one would listen and no one came byHe grew to be older and swallow his prideWhen he first left his home he was only sixteenHe followed his heart or he followed his dreamBut it all fell apart, or it split at the seamHe grew to be older and he grew to be meanCharlie would say it don't matter that muchA slap on the face like a want and a touchSometimes that temper can act as a crutchBetter watch your step, ChuckShe was a froline, a young touristShe was the swan who started all thisThere were sailors and mad men and they were all pissedThe blood started flowing over one reckless kissWell, the authorities came with a howl of the houndsThey emptied their guns but they paid for their roundsAnd they took poor Charlie to the center of townWhere they strung him up just to knock him back downCharlie would say it don't matter that muchA slap on the face like a want and a touchSometimes that temper can act as a crutchBetter watch your step, ChuckWell, the judge, he was mean and he drew a deep breathHe sentenced poor Charlie to a quick hanging deathBut little did he know that the rope would soon breakA sign that his life, well a court couldn't takeCapital punishment fits like a gloveBut a sentence like that only comes from aboveWhen you're raised as a child with a kick and a shoveIt's sad that a man has to die without loveCharlie would say it don't matter that muchA slap on the face like a want and a touchSometimes that temper can act as a crutchBetter watch your step, Chuck