Stay True

It used to be lager
and then it was Jack
that gave me the courage
that my stomach lacked
to say what I meant
when it mattered most.
I read all the Russians
and prayed to their ghosts.

I know what you're thinking
'cause they've wondered, too--
Would it be someone else
if it wasn't you?
But I've played the field
so I know what's not there.
Most of those damsels
won't let down their hair
for a guy with a penchant
for blood and the pen
who isn't quite now
what he almost was then
but he wakes in the morning
with a saint on his mind
who unlike the years
has been mighty kind.
I'll never be perfect
but I'll try to be
the man you deserve
to rock you to sleep.

Sometimes it's Sailor.
It sure won't be Jack.
That speech I was slurring--
I don't take it back.