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