One of many to come, I'm sure. Man is he gonna be missed....

A Man Named Dawg

Somewhere deep in Tennessee by an old spit of a creek
A man named Dawg used to write songs that none could beat
Colorful, and breathtaking, and so often, downright funny
He was a man who all called friend, ‘cept one who called him Honey

They met a few short years ago, too few, we all know now
They fell in love, and she came East, to trade with him her vows
And vow they did, to stick it out, no matter what, til death
She loved him dearly, as did we, right up to his last breath

That man named Dawg has left us now
But he’s left so much behind
A legacy that few could match
And fewer still should try
I think I hear the echo of
His laughter from above
Telling us he’ll be just fine
Now go write one more song!

And so I write this one for him
The man who we called Dawg

He knew his way through history, through North, West, East and South
Came up with facts and stories you’d swear came word of mouth
He’d turn you on your sow purse ear if he thought your manners poor
But never gave a second thought to evening the score

That ain’t the kind of man he was, to that all will attest
He stood at least a dozen hands above our worst and best
I bet he’s looking on us now, right next to Heaven’s Gate
Waiting for his friends to join him, scribblin’ while he waits

That man named Dawg has left us now
But he’s left so much behind
A brotherhood and sisterhood
As rare as one will find
I think I hear the echo of
His laughter from above
Telling us he’ll be just fine
Now go write one more song!

So write another song for him
The man who we called Dawg