When he was a boy, just sixteen years,
Bursting at the elbows, wet behind the ears,
Papa called him in and sat him in a chair,
Said, "Son, I think it's time you had a suit to wear"
It was his old blue suit, the one he used to wear,
With his pants all shiny and the cuffs worn bare
He never had much, but he always bought the best,
And in his old blue suit, today they're laying him to rest
Every Friday evening, driving into town
In his '37 Chevy, with the top rolled down,
Waving at the ladies, he'd give his horn a toot
A-sitting there, a-beaming, in his old blue suit
At a wedding or a funeral, a party of a dance
You'd better brush you jacket, don't forget to press your pants
With polish on his shoes, Vitalis on his hair,
He always looked his finest every time he'd wear
His old blue suit
Down at the feed store, only yesterday,
Why, everyone was talking 'bout how he passed away
When he meets Peter on the golden stair,
I guess I don't have to tell you what he'll wear
He'll wear his old blue suit

Written by Jerry Rasmussen
Recorded on So Goes My Heart (FSI-99) by Ann Mayo Muir
@clothes @death
filename[ SUITBLUE
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