I was sitting in the Crossroads bar - With Captain Rudy Jones -
Upon stage was the guitar man - The one with the crooked bones -
I was leaving back to the war - This was our final fling -
We were dancing with those fat girls - I figured it was time to sing -
"Jones, ask that crippled man - To play Merle's 'Fightin' Side Of Me'" -
"it's quarter to three in the morning - I want to sing it before we flee" -
Now he might have been a cripple - But he was a prickly cuss -
But I just wanted to sing that song - Didn't want to make a fuss -
Well, Jones asked him to play it - Even asked him nice -
But the cripple's answer nasty - His words were cold as ice -
"I don't know that fighting song - Don't want to hear that Ranger sing" -
Jones pulled out the cripple's stool - He gave it quite a fling -
The place got deadly quiet - A fat girl gave a wail -
I knew my last night at Benning - Would be in Columbus jail -
Jones said "Our names are Smith and Jones - And Smith is about to fly" -
"You've got five minutes to learn that song - Or you are going to die" -
It wasn't two seconds later - The opening chords did ring -
The melody of Merle's fighting song - I jumped on the stage to sing -
As soon as I was finished - I thanked the crippled screw -
I said thanks for Smith and Jones - Then out the door we flew -
The next morning before heading out - I read the paper between my moans -
Cops were looking for two soldiers - with the alias "Smith and Jones" -

Copyright 1998, by Mark A. Smith, Major, USA, Retired

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