The traveler and the county boys

Reading under bridges, wandering around
Sleeping on park benches and hiding from the town
He left New York a fuck up, trying to just go straight
Didn't know how long that kind of thing would take

But he made up his mind to wait

Made a little progress, got his head a little clear
But just like all his heroes he returned to the beer
Another head a-spinning, another shattered phone
Another night in heartbreak city all alone

And the county boys were down by the liquor store
Telling their proud tales to the lonesome and the poor
And he stood there like a soldier returning from war
He said, "I don't want to be such a bum anymore."

His body was a-hurtin, his head it was a mess
At worst he was a bastard, a tragedy at best
Drunkin', barely moving, stumbling alone
He cursed the world for doing him wrong

When in the distance he heard some kind of song

He followed the sound down a sad old street
Past the panhandlers shufflin' their feet
Through the baker's alley, all the dumpster divers know
Around the corner where the boys were singing low

And the county boys were down by the liquor store
Telling their proud tales to the lonesome and the poor
And he stood there like a soldier returning from war
He said, "I don't want to be such a bum anymore."