One for My Baby (and One More for the Road)

See him wasted on the sidewalk in His jacket and his jeans Wearing yesterday's misfortunes Like a smile Once he had a future full of Money, love and dreams Which he spent like they Was going out of style And he keeps right on a changing For the better or the worse And searching for a shrine He's never found Never knowing if believing Is a blessing or a curse Or if the going up is worth to coming 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 walking contradiction partly Truth and partly fiction Taking 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 Running from his devils Lord And reaching for the stars And losing all he loved along the way But if this world keeps right On turning for the better or the worse And all he ever gets is older and around From the rocking of the Cradle to the rolling of the hearse The going up was worth the coming down He's a poet he's a picker He's a prophet He's a pusher 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 walking contradiction partly Truth and partly fiction Taking every wrong direction on his Lonely way back home