Cams' Caskets

Cam’s Caskets: Ray Scott There was a kind and bushy ol’ mustached man, out on mail route 59 Retired casket A-Z driver, went by the name of Cam Sometimes he’d walk along with me, to get some exercise Then suddenly, cancer came back, wife Barbie said he died They had a son, young Cody, who they lost long ago Memorial of a goalie, out front, every Christmas time I guess I’ll never see Cams’ fireworks in spring, this year When wife Barbie said he passed away I couldn’t stop my tears, ah no Woah no. Awe no It all happened too fast He told me, he was doin’ just fine! And it’s eighteen wheels all a rollin’ Carryin’ those caskets on home All the funeral parlors a’ closin’ But Cams’ gonna’ get there on time Cams’ casket will be just fine We’ve seen rough times, now darker days are forcing us inside We isolate and quarantine and I’m listening to Prine, I’m cryin’ Still, each day I take the letters up cams’ long driveway My head hung low to the letter box, not knowing what to say ‘Cuz we always answer questions on our own, inside our minds Ahh no I just don’t know Why oh why, did he have to go! And it’s eighteen wheels still rollin’ Carryin’ them caskets on home All the funeral parlors are closing But Cams’ casket will be on time Cause Cams’ memory’s doing just fine Cam n’ Cody, drivin’ on down the highway in our minds Cam’s caskets will be on time Cams’ caskets always arrive, on time