By Mickey Newbury



Well, today there's no salvation

The band's packed up and gone

And I'm left standing with my penny in my hand

There's a big crowd at the station

Where the blind man sings his song

But he sees, Lord, what they can't understand



It's the 33rd of August, Lord

And I'm finally coming down

Eight days from Sunday

Finds me Saturday bound



Once I stumbled through the darkness

Fell down to my knees

A thousand voices screaming in my brain

Woke up in a squad car

Busted down for vagrancy

And outside my cell, it sure as hell, it looked like rain



Now I've got my dangerous feeling

Under lock and chain I've killed my violent nature with a smile

Though the demons danced and sang their songs

Within my fevered brain

Not all my God-like thoughts, Lord, were defiled



Yesterday's newspaper forecast no rain for today

Yesterday's news was old news

So I threw it away

Some time's at night, Lord, you know

I can still feel the pain

And, outside my cell, it sure as hell, it looks like rain