And whatever happened to Bill Slaney?
Bill was good and pure enough of spirit
And then he was gone
Across the river I heard I imagine
Maybe he bought the hardware store?
Didn't his father-in-law have one?
Learned how to give household hints
Like always plain with the grain
And a butterfly anchor works best
When there is no beam
I imagine Bill and his wife, Arleen
Across the river
Happy as a forest in summer
Lost to me as I am to what I was back then
Back when I knew them
Everything, this side of the river.