Cold, Cold Hank (1924-1953)

The saddest man you ever saw Sang through his nose, his notes were raw, His teeth were bad, his voice was flat; Hank Williams wore a cowboy hat. A hundred songs upon the shelf, He loved us more than loved himself: He sang of you, he sang of me, To set our shackled spirits free. His tritest titles bragged of pain, “Your Cheatin’ Heart,” “You Win Again,” And “Weary Blues,” “I Saw The Light,” And “There’ll Be No Teardrops Tonight.” He loved to drink, but he loved more Composing melodies meant for The words he couldn’t always spell, But sang so well that they still sell. A limousine, gold in the bank, Were not enough to ease old Hank: He cursed his loves, and feared his Lord Would pay him back the debts he stored. The debts were cleared on New Year’s Day, The coroner could only say That chloral hydrate took its toll From Hank’s poor self-tormented soul. You hear that yodeled freight-train whine? It’s just a ghost, aged twenty-nine, That left his flesh in ‘Fifty-Three, But still he haunts Montgomery. Hank Williams repeated the above form in nearly all his songs some of which are included in the above verse.