That hot-blooded youth
Expired at last
Cold grease-fire ashes
Just soot on the soul.

Where are the children
And where are the wives
Where are the stocked-up answers
For the rest of his life?

Here is the bourbon
Here is the wine
There the eyes sparkle
But the limbs have all declined.

His speech is fiery
His decisions forthright
But where there was once a cuff to the cheek
There is grasping for a cane.

I respect the man
I acknowledge his might
It's death I despise
And its sapping of rights.