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