One for My Baby (And One More for the Road)

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 going out of style
 And he keeps right on a changing
 For the better or the worse
 And searching for a shrine
 He's never found
 Never knowing if believing
 Is a blessing or a curse
 Or if the going up is worth to coming 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 walking contradiction partly
 Truth and partly fiction
 Taking 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
 Running from his devils Lord
 And reaching for the stars
 And losing all he loved along the way
 But if this world keeps right
 On turning for the better or the worse
 And all he ever gets is older and around
 From the rocking of the
 Cradle to the rolling of the hearse
 The going up was worth the coming down
 He's a poet he's a picker
 He's a prophet
 He's a pusher
 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 walking contradiction partly
 Truth and partly fiction
 Taking every wrong direction on his
 Lonely way back home