I'm sinking down back to my old friend,
He always gives me what I want.
A needle in the arm and a soft spot to sleep it all away;
Daydreaming in the grass as I nod in and out.

I'd be depressed if I cared.
I'd be clean if I cared.
So set up my rig and let me flush it all away.

No pain under the stars, no thoughts of any kind.

I'm swimming in a pool of my own self indulgence-
China white warms the blood and let me swim in the spoon.

Don't worry about me too much, I'm just doing my own thing for now.

I'd be depressed if I cared, I'd be aware if I cared.

You can buy my luck for a hit, just get me to my dealer.

Sobering thoughts is what led me to the gutter,
I've lived here ever since.

Now my friends are all ghosts and I'm better off in my head;
I'm sleeping off my family and what I remember of my old life,
The sun is setting and it's getting dark but that's alright by me.

This is how it goes if you live in Echo Park

Some is rich and some is poor and that's a fact you can't change;
Working all day to break your back and give it to the company store.

Now I was told to work smarter not harder, but when you're the smartest one in the welfare line even work horses have to laugh at you.

Now I don't sleep under this bridge for fun;
It keeps me dry when the storms come.

You might've seen me under pool hall lights;
Neon signs and cheap drink nights.

I left my home long ago and now I wander the open road,
Roaming suits me better than falling in line with a proper life.

Now I sleep under the stars, you leave change in my hat-
while I strum my guitar.

I follow the tide and ride the wind, I live on the open road.
When my time is done here just lay me under a tree and let me be.
I've got stories from every state- I've had food from the president's plate.
I've slept in the gutter of the "Show me state" and I've walked along that Golden Gate.

Every town brings a new face-it's often found in mirrors of bars.

Somewhere out there someone loves me;
Somewhere out there someone remembers me-for the life of me I can't remember who that person is.

I make fast money for hard work, I work hard for no pay-
Just because the sun sets doesn't mean it's the end of the day.

Then when I call it quits I grab my guitar and play the songs that my grandfathers sang before me.

Every town brings another name, sometimes I get lucky sometimes I take the blame- all in all it's my lot in life and so I travel this road I'm on with little caution and a switchblade knife.

Find work when I can, eat when I can afford to- always on the move and headed down that lone road, I travel the empty walkways on sidewalks long forgotten by history and time- some call me a ***** while others say vagabond- I just live how I live and see what's around the next bend.

The poet's pain is self chosen, at least we believe it to be.

We're all players on the stage, entertainers of the modern era; using words to show the world how we see the world.

You dig deep to express yourself and you give all you can, you can bleed on the stage and give your time.

The only direction we go is with the flow of our hearts on which we abuse to create the art we so aggressively protect.

Had I know then what I know now, I'd take back my words in exchange for experience and patience- in another time I was wiser than I am now because now it's all behind me and not knowing what was in front of me was more of an advantage than learning how to live with what I lost.