his rustic way
the easy as they come grin
the soft shine in a hard land
had a gift in his brotherly manner
it was vulture's way
the name didn't fit the man but few do
he was a kind soul
always had time to mend fences
had time to build bridges
and the boy could dance
look at him go in the firelight
while the music sang softly
always thought he was most at home
sharing a meal and the comforts of conversation
few knew him as well as I
spent years chasing dawns early light with my friend
laughing and carrying on like two kids
it was vulture's way
last time ever laid eyes on him
he was laughing and talking with some fine young girl
just as natural as can be
a true hippie
relaxed and at ease with the world
he died later that spring
but to me he will always be alive
in summer breeze and moonlight
watch him dance and shake thous old bones
my good friend will always be there
in every smile i ever see
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