Ballad of Forty Dollars  Tom T. Hall

 
 
 
 
 BALLAD OF FORTY DOLLARS 
 Words and music by Tom T. Hall 
 
 [D] The man who preached the funeral 
 Said it really was a simple way to [G] die ... 
 [A7] He laid down to rest one afternoon 
 And never opened up his [D] eyes ... 
 They hired me and Fred and Joe 
 To dig the grave and carry up some [G] chairs ... 
 [A7] It took us seven hours 
 And I guess we must have drunk a case of [D] beer. ... 
 
 I guess I ought to go and watch them put 'im down 
 But I don't own a suit 
 And anyway when they start talkin' about 
 The fire in Hell, well, I get spooked 
 So, I'll just sit here in my truck 
 And act like I don't know 'im when they pass 
 Anyway, when they're all through 
 I've got to go to work and mow the grass. 
 
 Well, here they come and who's that 
 Ridin' in that big ol' shiny limousine 
 Mmh! look at all that chrome, I do believe 
 That that's the sharpest thing I've seen 
 That must belong to his great uncle 
 Someone said he owned a big ol' farm 
 When they get parked I'll mosey down 
 and look it over, that won't do no harm. 
 
 Well, that must be the widow in the car 
 And would you take a look at that 
 That sure is a pretty dress 
 You know some women do look good in black 
 Well, he's not even in the ground 
 And they say that his truck is up for sale 
 They say she took it pretty hard 
 But you can't tell too much behind the veil. 
 
 Well, listen ain't that pretty 
 When the bugler plays the Military "TAPS" 
 I think that when you's in the war 
 They always (*hide 'n) play a song like that 
 Well, here I am and there they go 
 And I guess you'd just call it my bad luck 
 I hope he rests in peace, the trouble is 
 The fellow owes me forty bucks.