The Angels Know His Name - Louise Taylor
Well his back is partially bent
from a lifetime hard and spent
and his teeth are nearly black
from the liquor and tobacco
and he walks with a crutch
his pain holstered at his hip
and the voices in his head
bring strange words unto his lips
but he don't complain
'cause the angels know his name
Well he photographed the war
took a wife in '44
a scholarly gentleman
with three lovely children
and he captured some truth
took it all for black and white
but it slipped past his lens
and lodged like scrapnel in his sight
and he never saw the same
but the angels know his name
and they lifted him up
and laid his troubles down
on a green narrow couch
in a dirty flat downtown
Well two flights up
and a half flight down
there's a concerned neighbor knocking
there the lock hangs in it's keep
and a clock marks his age old sleep
beside a fallen wall of books
a solo seat awaits
and a naked lightbulb expectantly
dangles its' chain
but he won't pull again
'cause the angels know his name