The Pilgrim Ch. 33

See him wasted on the sidewalk in his jacket and his jeans

Wearin' yesterday's misfortunes like a smile

Once he had a future full of money, love and dreams

Which he spent like they was goin' out of style

And he keeps right on a-changin' for the better or the worse

Searchin' for a shrine he's never found

Never knowin' if believin' is a blessin' or a curse

Or if the goin' up was worth the comin' down

He's a poet, oh, 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 walkin' contradiction, partly truth, partly fiction

Takin' ev'ry wrong direction on his lonely way back home

Well, he has tasted good and evil in your bedrooms and your bars

Has traded in tomorrow for today

Runnin' from his devils, Lord and reachin' for the stars

And losin' all he's loved along the way

But if this world keeps right on turnin' for the better or the worse

And all he ever gets is older and around

From the rockin' of the cradle to the rollin' of the hearse

The goin' up was worth the comin' down

He's a poet, he's a picker, he's a prophet, he's a liar

He's a pilgrim and a preacher, and a problem when he's stoned

He's a walkin' contradiction, partly truth, partly fiction

Takin' ev'ry wrong direction on his lonely way back home

There's a lot of wrong directions on your lonesome way back home

From the rockin' of the cradle to the rollin' of the hearse

The goin' up was worth the comin' down