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Michael McGuire
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Educating Ed
Now; Ed's hair was always army cot neat,
His smile was a rerun
but it was an honest deceit, He ran the garage down on Eighth and Dean for old man Blake,
Who always said the dumb
son of a bitch would leave three hours early before he'd be three minutes late,
You see; Ed was in the
army but he only learned the discipline; not what the discipline was
supposed to teach him,
He was so out of touch not even his wife of thirty years could reach him.
I worked for Ed about three years; me and Bobby Thornton and Steven Pate,
They were both good guys and I don't think Stevie even knew the meaning of hate,
He was always kind of
quiet with a quick shy smile and man he would help you haul in the moon,
Now; we all hated Ed but you had to work so we put up with the buffoon,
We all called him dick Ed and Sargent shit-for-brains for a laugh behind his back,
But it was no joke the way
he could make your life miserable; man; he never cut you any slack.
Well the days of our youth slip by unnoticed; no surprises we pretty
much knew what to expect,
When suddenly from the depths of chance Stevie's girlfriend Kim was
killed in a car wreck,
They had lived together for over a year and were talking about
getting married someday,
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But they were just shacking up to Ed; who was sort of reverse
color blind; he could see all the colors but gray,
Stevie missed the day
she died; the funeral was the next
morning; Ed wanted him back that afternoon,
Well; Stevie came back that afternoon and man it looked like
his eyes were missing; he looked like a hundred years would have been too soon,
When Stevie told Ed he needed
more time Ed said you leave
now and you might as well hit the street,
With all the rage of the
helpless; Stevie landed a blow
that took him right off his feet.
Ed had to have his jaw wired shut; he was out for quite a while,
When he came back he
was still the same asshole but his smile looked a little more like a smile,
It's been years ago now but when I think back to when he took that lick from Stevie,
I guess it's the trapped steam of my rage but he had it coming and he
needed it; and I wish it would have been me.
(I'd have knocked that mother fucker out)
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