The Pilgrim — Chapter 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’ outa 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--

Chorus:
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 walkin’ contradiction, partly truth and partly fiction,
Takin’ ev’ry 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--
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--

Chorus:
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 walkin’ contradiction, partly truth and partly fiction,
Takin’ ev’ry wrong direction on his lonely way back home.
There’s a lotta wrong directions on that lonely way back home.

Похожие новости.

[Verse 1] Peace to the Five Percenters, online engine inventors Shout to them niggas, family men, bringin’ home dinners Watch out for desperate lonely women, hurt ya happy home Miserable and alone, kissable, nice

[Iyaz] Shawty's love is like a pyramid (ooh) We stand together till the very end (eh ooh) There'll never be another love for sure (ooh) Iyaz and Charice let we go Stones, heavy like the

Sunshine, on a rainy day. Keeps the dark away, from me Moonlight, on a stormy night, Makes me feel alright, keeps me sane I’ve made up my mind it’s so clear to me. I’m walking

Жодного разу за все життя Я не просив пробачень. Тільки до Бога я ніс каяття, Мав невгамовну вдачу. Я і сьогодні не завинив, Долю свою не зрадив. Та інколи досить лиш кілька слів, Щоб сумувала радість. Приспів: Гірке це

Ночные города спят в одиноком сне, И только огонек мерцает в темноте. Я знаю - это ты в полночной тишине Зажег свечу любви и вспомнил обо мне. Пусти меня скорей В свой иллюзорный мир, Где детства