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