I was a stumble bummin' down the neon Music City sidewalks
|
With the Junkie and the Juicehead who had problems of their own
|
Stuck with luck it kept me standin' just a step away from starvin'
|
And the talent that I swore I'd show before I'd go back home
|
Ninety days I looked the army makin' neither love nor money
|
And my only set of clothes was gettin' closer to the bone
|
And the Junkie placed an order with the Prophet on the corner
|
And he told him of the soul that he'd been sellin' for a song
|
He said my future was my fortune but I let it slip away
|
Slowly smokin' myself broke on eighty cigarettes a day
|
Findin' out that crime ain't all there is that doesn't pay
|
And writin' words that no one's gonna see but did you said it who said it
|
I can read my fortune in the bottom of a glass
|
And I can see it's time for me to make my last request
|
Won't you fill my grave with whiskey when I'm laid away to rest
|
So the boys can say I drank myself to dead
|
Well I drank the whole thing over puttin' one and two together
|
And it added up to more of what I didn't want to be
|
I ain't blamin' Music City but it's only gonna see me
|
One more day and the wake up and the time it takes to leave
|
Cause I got a dirty picture of what could have been my future
|
In a Prophet pushin' day dreams on a corner for a fee
|
And the wino lookin' lonely at a bottle gettin' empty
|
And a hungry lookin' junkie huntin' tea in sympathy
|
And I bet that junkie's laughin' after the life he threw away
|
Slowly smokin' himself broke on eighty cigarettes a day
|
Pleadin' down the Prophet to a price that he can pay
|
And writin' words that no one's gonna see but did you said it who said it
|
Every empty bottle is my private crystal ball
|
And starin' into the future findin' nothin' there at all
|
Which is what I'll miss tomorrow when the neon shadows fall
|
On the Junkie and the Juicehead minus me
|
|
-----------------
|
The Junkie And The Juicehead, Minus Me
|
| Kris Kristofferson |
