Roy Boy

©℗2005 Dave Insley, Crawl Daddy Music, BMI

Well when I was a little kid, I remember what my daddy said
About his younger days on the farm
About his youthful life so sweet, raising corn and thrashin’ wheat
And sippin’ homemade whiskey behind the barn

Well my young dad he had a friend, whose generosity depended
on a phrase my daddy had to say
Ya see, before he’d spot my dad a smoke, maybe as some kinda joke
My dad could only ask him in this way:

“Well Roy boy, with the Floy Joy, with the Killroy, with the Frank Buck
How’re your cigarettes holding out?”
When my dad would ask him thus, ol’ Roy could not refuse or fuss
Cause he knew what my dad was talking ‘bout

Well harvest time would come each year, and my dad sat on his John Deere
Stayed in the field till 9 or 10 P.M.
“That wheat won’t wait” I’d hear him say, and he be up at 4 each day
to start the sleepless cycle once again

But when mom brought some lunch to him, and they’d rest in the shade for 10
Roy would drive a truckload into town
But before he’d leave my dad would say, “I’ll ask him in my special way”
To kindly pass his pack of smokes around

“Well Roy boy, with the Floy Joy, with the Killroy, with the Frank Buck
How’re your cigarettes holding out?
Well Roy boy can’t you see, that I’m sufferin’ mightily
Roy boy won’t you kindly bust ‘em out?”

Well many years have passed since then, and my dear dad’s an old, old man
He don’t remember all he used to know
But I’ll bet on his dying day, he’ll still remember what to say
When he gets to heaven and asks Roy for a smoke:

“Well Roy boy with the Floy Joy with the Killroy with the Frank Buck
How’re your cigarettes holding out?
Roy boy with the Floy Joy with the Killroy with the Frank Buck
Can’t you see I’m suffering, bust ‘em out?”

Well Roy boy, with the Floy Joy, with the Killroy, with the Frank Buck,
How’re your cigarettes holding out?

{i}©℗2005 Dave Insley, Crawl Daddy Music, BMI{/i}