My father told me a
story tonight
About a personal
family plight
His Grandpa, someone
he never met
On his mother's side.
His name was Lajos -
Pronounced like:
"LAY-USH"
Lived in Gyor, a
farming town -
Just outside of
Budapest
He ran liquor up and
down
Made deliveries
Did his best.
One stormy night, he
rode his cart
Drawn by two horses
In the dark.
Halfway there, he
disembarked
The horses spooked
Left him aloft.
Lajos walked
Into the White Night
His horses, gone
No sign of light.
They found him days
later
A'neathe a drift
100 feet from
A farmhouse and
Salvation.
His horses were home
Two days before.
They appeared without
Lajos
At the barnyard door.
You Never Fucking
Know.
