The Pilgrim - Capter 33 Paroles

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,
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--



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.