Here's a fine song I got from Bruce Utah Phillips in 1973. I sang it once to open a show and everyone left the room crying. From then on I hardly ever did it. Mostly I did it one-on-one for someone who wanted to hear it. And afterwards there was usually just total silence...

Art ___________________________________________________

THE DRUNKARD'S SON

Through the old dusty attic of a tenement house I happened to wander one day,
And there on a rafter, with shaving's and chips, a drunkard's poor little boy lay,
"Why are you laying here up in the cold--what makes you lie on this hard bed?"
"My daddy's a drunkard and he beat me today---my darling old mother is dead."

"I'm hiding from father and, please sir, don't tell--he beat me because I would not steal,
He said he would kill me the next time I failed--and I'm so afraid that he will."
"I'm leaving you here, son," I sadly replied, "I will be back right away."
But when I returned to the attic I found that Jesus had been there that day.

The chips and the shavings were there on the floor--the little boy lay on the bed,
With tears on his cheeks and his hands at his sides---the poor little fellow was dead,
A picture of mother lay close to his heart---a faint little note by his head,
As I opened the paper my eyes filled with tears and these are the words that I read:

"I'm hiding with Jesus across the divide,
With dear mother forever I'll dwell,
And thank you, dear mister, for your kindness to me,
And now it's alright if you tell!"