(Just a) Man in the Corner
By J.T. Patten, Writer; Lone Woolf Lyrics, Publisher
ASCAP 921495295
(Verse)
Hidden in the back corner,
Of every two bit no name bar,
Sits a man alone with a whiskey,
License plate has a silver star.
He don’t see himself like a hero,
Most days feels like a zero.
He’s a man who is kind,
But no one pays him no mind.
Most of his good times, long ended.
(Chorus)
He’s just the man in the corner,
No one payin’ him no mind.
Don’t like noise, don’t like crowds,
Doesn’t want just a pat on the back.
Been sittin’ here for years,
Mumbling words under tears,
Toasting lost friends to his glass of Jack.
(Verse)
He fought for this country,
Asked for nothing in return.
Came back from the war a changed man,
Something not a one could quite understand.
They waved a fist not a flag,
As he hefted, a mildewed duffel bag.
His wife and family tried to help him,
He just sat out back silent and smokin.’
One by one, he watched them leave, saw them go,
Didn’t seem to care, couldn’t get his emotions to show.
(Chorus)
He’s just the man in the corner,
No one payin’ him no mind.
Don’t like noise, don’t like crowds,
Doesn’t want just a pat on the back.
Been sittin here for years,
Mumbling words under tears,
Toasting lost friends to his glass of Jack.
(Lyric)
And then one day, back at a bar,
Which one, it was hard to say.
He saw a man with a Veteran cap, hat said Da Nang.
Guy had a hobble, thousand-yard stare, and a walking cane.
Hey pal he said, sorry to bother,
But I was thinking before I had another.
Care to sit, maybe talk some shit,
How we were both some young jungle fodder.
(Chorus)
I’m just a man in the corner,
No one payin me no mind.
Don’t like noise, don’t like crowds,
Doesn’t want just a pat on the back.
Been sittin here for years,
Mumbling words under tears,
Toasting lost friends to my glass of Jack.
(Lyric)
He caught a gleam in that old man’s eye,
I think I know you, my god, I thought you’d died.
The man in the corner, stood up tall.
He smiled.
We sat together. Basic Training. Ft. Benning Chow Hall.
It’s me, John. Your name was Mack.
I heard the same, you never made it back.
Come sit, will you join me?
I got first round,
Do you like Jack?
He said. I think I will, you see…
(Outro)
I don’t like noise, don’t like crowds,
Doesn’t want just a pat on the back.
Been sittin in bars like this for years,
Mumbling empty words, toasting friends to a glass of Jack.
And they raise em high.
Now, there’s two men in the corner,
No one payin’ them much mind,
But they’re laughing and crying,
Two old friends,
Just letting go of what’s been inside.