See him wasted on the sidewalk in his jacket and his jeans,
Wearin' yesterday's misfortunes like a smile.
Once he had a future full of money, love, and dreams,
Which he spent like they was goin' outta style.
And 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.
He's a poet, an' he's a picker,
He's a prophet, an' 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' ev'ry 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 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.
He's a poet, an' he's a picker,
He's a prophet, an' 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' ev'ry wrong direction,
On his lonely way back home.
An' there's a lotta wrong directions on that lonely way back home
Wearin' yesterday's misfortunes like a smile.
Once he had a future full of money, love, and dreams,
Which he spent like they was goin' outta style.
And 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.
He's a poet, an' he's a picker,
He's a prophet, an' 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' ev'ry 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 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.
He's a poet, an' he's a picker,
He's a prophet, an' 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' ev'ry wrong direction,
On his lonely way back home.
An' there's a lotta wrong directions on that lonely way back home
Fifty-Five and still kickin'. Dave just
celebrated a birthday (Feb 12)
making him older than the speed
limit.
On Dave's birthday everyone forgot
until he became drunk and
reminded everyone. So Dave got
really drunk because we all felt bad
and bought him a bunch of drinks.
Dave, Dan Hart, Briar(the dog), and
myself went for an always eventful
Sunday drive to commemorate the
day Dave started his existence with
proper ceremony.
Below is a song by Kris Kristofferson
called "The Pilgrim(Chapter 33)".
It's about Dave. Maybe it's about
you too.
celebrated a birthday (Feb 12)
making him older than the speed
limit.
On Dave's birthday everyone forgot
until he became drunk and
reminded everyone. So Dave got
really drunk because we all felt bad
and bought him a bunch of drinks.
Dave, Dan Hart, Briar(the dog), and
myself went for an always eventful
Sunday drive to commemorate the
day Dave started his existence with
proper ceremony.
Below is a song by Kris Kristofferson
called "The Pilgrim(Chapter 33)".
It's about Dave. Maybe it's about
you too.