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Uncle Thompson

from Down the Road by Jack Wilkinson

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lyrics

They called him Uncle Thompson
Black man down the street
And all the children loved him
Ran in circles round his feet
And they loved him, they loved him
Their Uncle Thompson

Well I guess he was a veteran
Of some forgotten war
He always wore the green clothes
And told stories of the shore
And they loved him, they loved him
Their Uncle Thompson

Don't you know
When the cold wind blows
He'd hold them in his arms
Saying, “I’m your Uncle Thompson
Won't see you any harm”

No one cared for color
And nobody was right
They said that Uncle Thomson
Will grab you in the night
He's the wrong kind, the wrong kind
You'll understand

Men so full of hate
Men so full of love
The word they can't relate
The word they're thinking of
The word is love, they're think of
The word is love

Chorus

Then there was a gunshot
And then the night grew still
And there was Uncle Thompson
Lying on the hill
And they loved him, they loved him
Their Uncle Thompson

Chorus

credits

from Down the Road, released January 23, 2008

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Jack Wilkinson Salt Lake City, Utah

Thanks for listening to my album Down the Road. I'm currently working on a new album. I appreciate people spreading the word about my free music. Thanks again!

Jack Wilkinson

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