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Peggy came to me in my sleep |
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In the middle of the night, on a Friday night, last week |
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She whispered, "Hush child and don't be scared |
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I got me a few words of wisdom that I came back to share" |
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And she said |
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"It doesn't matter where you come from |
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It matters where you go |
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No one gets remembered |
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For the things they didn't do" |
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I said, "Peggy won't you stay here for awhile? |
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We can drink whiskey, we can play cards and we can get wild" |
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She said, "We can play poker and we'll play for keeps |
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I only play angels lately and they never let me cheat" |
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It doesn't matter where you come from |
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It matters where you go |
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And no one gets remembered in this listless life |
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For the things they didn't do |
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And you could say I had a good start |
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And you could say I had class |
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And you could say that I was born |
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Beneath the ceiling made of glass |
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But I always kept an open house |
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And yeah, always did right by my friends |
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And when it comes to Saint Peter's gate |
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I told the people remember one who needs to make amends |
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'Cause better times are coming |
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Better times ahead |
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And no one gets remembered |
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My deathless child, don't rest too long in bed |
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And Peggy said |
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"It doesn't matter where you come from |
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It matters where you go |
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No one gets remembered in this listless, loveless life |
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For the things they didn't do, now, now, now, now, now" |
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Peggy sang the blues, I've been drifting off |
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Peggy sang the blues as I've drifted off |
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Well, Peggy sang the blues 'cause I drifted off |
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Well, Peggy sang the blues, Peggy sang the blues |
