The Pilgrim: Chapter 33

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' outa style
 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' outa 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 (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
 And losin' all he's loved along the way
 But if this world keeps right on turnin' for the better or the worse
 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 (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
 Takin' every wrong direction on his lonely way back home
 Takin' every wrong direction on his lonely way back home
 Takin' every wrong direction on his lonely way back home