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.

The careless herd Prepare to death Evil was settled in my soul The beast was settled He requires the blood And pain and suffering ( ) I am a stinger infernal hive The destroyer of life The wave of

Ну где ваши руки? Раз-два-три и конечно четыре Разбросала все вещи в квартире Жаль Улетел куда-то вдаль Жаль Новый замшевый сандаль А я пришел помятый С помадой где-то сзади И волосок предатель От этой рыжей Нади Готовлю ужин мужу Стою с куриным

DEAR ROBERT, I heard you was back in the slammer, you should havn known better Than to try it a second time, in the state of Alabama. I'm gonna miss your Midnight

Ший, бабо люба, Ший ми блюзу, Ший, бабо люба, І слухай блюза. Приспів: Ший, бабо люба, Ший ми блюзу, Ший, бабо любо, І слухай блюза. Ший, бабо люба, Ший... Ший, бабо люба, Бабо, блюзу ми ший! Ший ми блюзу, Жеби була в квітки, І ший

Потап: Of course, я босс... У меня на happy birthday hostess Kate Moss... Ква, золотые купола, Помнишь, во дворе гоняли до забитого гола? Да! Настя: Мы пели песни до утра... Потап: Мой друг, я так скучаю по тебе, Теперь