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I was a stumble bummin' down the neon Music City sidewalks |
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With the Junkie and the Juicehead who had problems of their own |
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Stuck with luck it kept me standin' just a step away from starvin' |
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And the talent that I swore I'd show before I'd go back home |
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Ninety days I looked the army makin' neither love nor money |
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And my only set of clothes was gettin' closer to the bone |
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And the Junkie placed an order with the Prophet on the corner |
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And he told him of the soul that he'd been sellin' for a song |
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He said my future was my fortune but I let it slip away |
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Slowly smokin' myself broke on eighty cigarettes a day |
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Findin' out that crime ain't all there is that doesn't pay |
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And writin' words that no one's gonna see but did you said it who said it |
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I can read my fortune in the bottom of a glass |
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And I can see it's time for me to make my last request |
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Won't you fill my grave with whiskey when I'm laid away to rest |
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So the boys can say I drank myself to dead |
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Well I drank the whole thing over puttin' one and two together |
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And it added up to more of what I didn't want to be |
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I ain't blamin' Music City but it's only gonna see me |
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One more day and the wake up and the time it takes to leave |
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Cause I got a dirty picture of what could have been my future |
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In a Prophet pushin' day dreams on a corner for a fee |
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And the wino lookin' lonely at a bottle gettin' empty |
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And a hungry lookin' junkie huntin' tea in sympathy |
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And I bet that junkie's laughin' after the life he threw away |
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Slowly smokin' himself broke on eighty cigarettes a day |
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Pleadin' down the Prophet to a price that he can pay |
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And writin' words that no one's gonna see but did you said it who said it |
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Every empty bottle is my private crystal ball |
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And starin' into the future findin' nothin' there at all |
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Which is what I'll miss tomorrow when the neon shadows fall |
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On the Junkie and the Juicehead minus me |
