This elder brother had a hide of stone
Turned to preaching despite his disposition
His little brother, favored second son
Of an Ulster Irishman
One ordinary weekend, 1991
Had lit out drinking on a canyon run
Mirro canteen of Tokay wine, he left the road
And took out a dozen junipers or so
In his blue Eldorado, eight months behind
First Bank of Goodnight
The old boy died just as he hit the bottom
Blood in his eyes, or red dashboard lights
Llano Estacado, a sinking down
As like as not
Beloved Son, Volunteer Fireman
The blood in his eyes, the red dashboard lights
This elder brother made the drive alone
Came up through Sweetwater from San Antone
His Scofield bible’s golden pages shone
Like a pearl-handled gun
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