A couple of years back I come across a great and wasted friend of mine in the hallway of a recording studio. And while he was reciting some poetry to me that he had written, I saw that he was about a step away from dying,
and I couldn't help but wonder why. And the lines of this song occurred to me. I'm happy to say he's no longer wasted, and he's got him a good woman. And I'd like to dedicate this to John and June, who helped showed me how to beat the devil.
It was wintertime in Nashville
And I was looking for a place
And to get my self out of the cold
To warm the frozen feeling that was
Keep the chilly wind off my guitar
My thirsty wanted whiskey
But my hunger needed beans
But it had been a month of paydays
Since I'd heard that eagle scream
So with a stomach full of empty
And a pocket full of dreams
I left my pride and stepped inside a bar
Actually I'd guess you'd call
Cigarette smoke to the ceiling
I saw that there was just one
old man sitting at the bar
And in the mirror I could see him
checking me and my guitar
boy, and show us what you are
I said I'm dry, and he bought me a beer
He nodded at my guitar and said,
It's a tough life, ain't it?
He said, you ain't making
I said, you been reading my mail
I got something you ought to hear
And then he laid it on me
If you waste your time a talking To the
To the things that you are saying
Who do you thinks gonna hear?
And if you should die explaining how
The things that they complain about
Are things they could be changing
Who do you thinks gonna care?
There were other lonely singers
In a world turned deaf and blind
Who were crucified for what they
And their voices have been scattered by the
‘Cause the truth remains that
Well the old man was a stranger
But I'd heard his song before
Back when failure had me locked out
On the wrong side of the door
When no one stood behind me
But my shadow on the floor
And lonesome was more than
You see, the devil haunts a hungry man
If you don't want to join him
I ain't saying I beat the devil
But I drank his beer for nothing
And you still can hear me singing
To the people who don't listen
To the things that I am saying
Praying someone's gonna hear
And I guess I'll die explaining how
The things that they complain about
Are things they could be changing
Hoping someone's gonna care
I was born a lonely singer
And I'm bound to die the same
But I've gotta feed the hunger in my soul
And if I never have a nickel
that no one wants to know
