See him wasted on the sidewalk in his jacket and his jeans

Wearing yesterday's misfortunes like a smile.

Once he had a future full of money, love, and dreams

Which he spent like they was goin' out of style.

But he keeps right on a changin' for the better or the worse

Searchin' for a shrine he's never found.

Never knowin' if believin' is a blessin' or a curse

Or if the goin' up was worth the comin' down.



Chorus:

He's a poet. He's a picker. He's a prophet. He's a pusher.

He's a pilgrim and a preacher and a problem when he's stoned.

He's a walkin' contradiction, partly truth and partly fiction.

Takin' every wrong direction on his lonely way back home.



He has tasted good and evil in your bedrooms and your bars

And he's traded in tomorrow for today.

Runnin' from his devils, Lord, and reachin' for the stars

Losin' all he's loved along the way.

But if this world keeps right on turnin'

For the better or the worse

And all he ever gets is older and around.

From the rockin' of the cradle to the rollin' of the hearse

The goin' up was worth the comin' down.



Repeat Chorus.



And there's a lot of wrong directions on that lonely way back home.