Willie McJohnson's Bad News

Willie McJohnson got some bad news;

He went to the Doctor, who said,

“I’m afraid you are suffering from multiple flu’s

And what’s more you’ve a cold in the head.

You’re being attacked by bacteria and germs

And a virus or two, which ain’t good,

And your liver and kidneys aren’t on speaking terms

And your heart is too weak to pump blood.

I’ll prescribe you injections and potions and pills

Which taste nasty and make you feel sore,

But in truth, I’m afraid there’s no cure for your ills;

You got three months to live, maybe four.”

Willie was shattered, this terrible news

Was too much to take in at one time,

He decided to go where they just sing the blues,

And drink Mexican beer with lime.

And he moaned and he howled like a bluesman in pain,

Which I guess if you do, then you are,

Till a picker from Tupelo named Hurricane

Kept him company on his guitar.

As he wailed he felt better, it’s easy to see;

If you’re blue, then the blues must come out,

And a singer is what he had wanted to be

Till he’d lost his ambition in doubt.

So he sang through the night, and the crowd shared his pain,

And he made them feel better inside.

And at five in the morning he boarded a train

With Hurricane still by his side.

They’d decided to travel all over the world

Making friends, and sharing their muse,

(And maybe they’d get to meet a few girls

Who would fall for their brand of the blues).

“Well”, he said, “if I have to go soon I’ll go well

And I’ll live my last days to the max.

And when the time comes to bid you farewell –

No regrets, no alas and alacks.”

So they travelled the world, and they did all those things

That they’d said they would do some fine day,

And with howling of moans and with bending of strings

They moved hearts in each town where they’d play.

And Willie looked up the old friends who he’d lost

By not staying in touch or through quarrels,

And he made peace again, fighting through all their frost,

And their anger or indignant morals.

Through the tears and the laughter forgiveness was found,

And the journey grew happy and brighter,

And when they found that they were back on home ground

Willie's mood was not dark now but lighter.

Then he suddenly thought, “Hang on there just a minute,

If today is the twelfth of July,

That means four months have passed, and I’ve gone past my limit;

Yesterday was the day I should die!”

So he went to the doc who first passed his life sentence

To demand some expert explanation,

And the doc was so sorry, he was full of repentance,

In the face of Willie’s indignation.

“It seems you’re quite well, there’s no sign and no trace

Of the bugs that dragged you to death’s door.

I declare that you’re fine, I can see from your face

That you’ll live ninety years, maybe more.”

“So I needn’t have gone round the world singing songs

That made all those who heard shed a tear!

And I rekindled friendships where things had gone wrong,

With the ones who I once held so dear,

Thinking this was my last chance, it was now or never.

And I lived like each day was my last,

And all ‘cause my doc ain’t too bright or too clever

All my dreams I’ve achieved and surpassed.

So it’s your fault I’ve lived, like I wanted to live,

And I did what I’d wanted to do.

And found I had something to share and to give,

Well all I can say is… thank you!”