You’re late

Neon buzzing in the corner
Rain running down the glass
Cheap bourbon in a heavy pour
Trying to make the night last

Door swung open slow and quiet
Cold wind crossed the floor
A stranger in a black hat
Stepped through the barroom door

He sat down right beside me
Like he’d been there all along
Voice low as midnight thunder
Said “Son, your time is gone.”

I said you’re late, my friend
By the next round before we go
Bartender pour that bottle
Let that dark whiskey flow

If I’m walking out with death tonight
I ain’t leaving slow
You’re late, my friend
By the next round before we go

He watched the smoke rise slowly
From the cigarette in my hand
Like he’d seen a thousand endings
Of a thousand different men

Said most folks start their praying
Or they’re begging for some time
I just raised my glass up
And slid his drink down the line

I said if you come to take me
Well at least sit down a while
Every road worth leaving
Deserves a final mile

You’re late, my friend
By the next round before we go
Bartender keep them coming
Let that dark whiskey flow

If the night’s my last companion
Well I’ll face it like I know
You’re late, my friend
By the next round before we go

The jukebox cried a lonely tune
Steel guitar and pain
Two shadows at a barroom
Listening to the rain

He tipped his hat and said to me
“You’re different than the rest”
I said “Death, if you’re collecting souls
Tonight you’ll get one blessed.”

Dark country and soul