He called it a special independent spirit
Nothing was going to keep him from his due
An ambitious agenda
Going to force his way in if he had to
Had a plan, had a destination
Couldn't be stopped by the likes of you
Willing to work your fingers to the bone
Work and work and work
Nose to the grindstone
Never a vacation, never a break
Going to make him some money
Going to take and take and take
A man like that didn't regard patience as a virtue
Didn't have time to wait
For opportunity to come around
He was never wrong
Could never have enough
Always grasping for more
Convinced that he was destined to be great
He was a greedy little bore
The gave him the best slab in the morgue
At the ripe old age of 38
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