Worth It All
By, Tarawen
A man with near black hair walked into a small karaoke pub – his name was Francis Doyle. Though he didn't know it at the time, he was going to die the next day – had he known though, he'd be doing exactly this.
If asked Doyle would have said that while he wasn't particularly amazing at singing, it was one of his favorite things to do; besides getting drunk.
The man walked to the front of the pub as he often did on a night like this. Doyle looked out across the pub, the smell of beer and cigarettes wafted up towards him. And suddenly he felt good, as if he were back in Europe, drinking with his good buddies before all this demon crap kicked in.
Picking up the microphone Doyle turned the small machine to the song he wanted. He didn't even have to look at the lyrics as one of his favorite songs came on.
"His eyes they closed
and his last breath spoke
he had seen all to be seen
a life once full
now an empty vase
wilt the blossums
on his early grave"
Doyle closed his eyes momentarily recalling his old buddies,
"walk away me boys
walk away me boys
and by morning
we'll be free
wipe that golden tear
from your mother dear
and raise what's left
of the flag for me"
His eyes opened once more as the fiddles picked up pace and the electric guitar began, some might call the band Flogging Molly odd, but to Doyle it was the best thing he'd ever listened to. Jumping up Doyle continued the song.
"then the rosary beads
count them 1 2 3
fell apart as they hit the floor
in a garb of black
we must pay respect
to the color we were born to mourn
walk away me boys
walk away me boys
and by morning we'll be free
wipe that golden tear
from your mother dear
and raise what's left
of the flag for me"
For a few minutes the man felt safe in the embrace of the familiar tune, and for just a moment he forgave himself.
"In its place grew walk away me boy
an angry festered wound
full of hatred and remorse
where I pick and scratch
till the blood it matched
silent rage that now fills my lungs
for there are many ways
to kill a man they say
with bayonet, axe or sword
but son a bullet fired
from a shapeless guise
just put the shell of a Thompson gun
walk away me boys
and by morning we'll be free
wipe that golden tear
from your mother dear
and raise what's left
of the flag for me"
A true smile broke the mans face as he did a joking jig causing his audience to let lose a hearty laugh.
"from the east out to the western shore
where many men and many more will fall
but no angel flys with me tonight
though freedom reigns on all
and curse the name for which
we slaved our days
so every men chose Kingdom Come
But sure as night turns day
it's the passion play
oh my god
what have they done
with madmen rage
well the dogged craze
but the dead rise again you fools"
Suddenly it hit him with all certainty that he was never going to do this again after tonight, at least not in this life. The man stared out over the crowd a small tear pulled at the corner of his eye, and then it all became clear. He was okay, he wasn't evil, and he sure as hell had done his lot to be forgiven, and most importantly to Doyle – he'd put Angel on the right path.
"walk away me boy walk away me boy
walk away me boys
and by morning we'll be free
wipe that golden tear
from your mother dear
and raise what's left
of the flag for me
walk away me boys
and by morning we'll be free
wipe that golden tear
from your mother dear
and raise what's left
of the flag for me"
The crowd cheered and Doyle bowed before giving into the audiences calls, and gave them an encore. He was going to make this night worth it the man knew. Worth the million laughs he'd missed out on due to his own blindness. Life would be right soon, be he dead or alive in the next few hours, it no longer mattered – all that mattered was that he knew…that he did do some good, and that was always worth something Doyle mused.
A/N: Well tell me what you think.