Dean Martin, you say?

Well, yes I see why

With the silk in his voice

And the glint in his eye

 

A boxer, a crooner

With satire and skits

A boozer, no loser

Wine, westerns and wit

 

But it's Williams for me

I admire the sheer range

The highs and the lows

The awesome, the strange

 

The pain and the ego

The bad-boy style grin

A writer, a fighter

Who sings when he wins

 

And both sang for this age

It ought to be said

For they managed to smile

While being kicked in the head

 

We will always need voices

Talent and song

With Williams and Martin

We can't go too wrong