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

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' 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
Runnin' from his devils, lord, and reachin' for the stars
And losin' all he's loved along the way