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To Beat the Devil

It was winter time in Nashville

Down on Music City Row

I was lookin for a place to get

Myself out of the coldTo warm the frozen feelin

That was eatin at my soul

And keep the chilly winds off my guitarMy thirsty wanted whiskey

And my hunger needed beans

But I guess itd been a month of payday

Since I heard that eagle screamSo with a stomach full of empty

And a pocket full of dreams

I left my pride and stepped inside a barActually I guess youd call it a tavern

Cigarette smoke to the ceilin'

Sawdust on the floor friendly shadowsI saw that there was just

An old man sittin at the bar

In the mirror, I could see him

Checkin me and my guitarHe said, Come up here, boy

Show us what you are

I said Im dry, he bought me a beer

He nodded at my guitarSaid, Its a tough life, aint it?

I just looked at him

And he said, You aint

Makin any money are youI said, You been readin my mail

He just smiled and said, Let me see that guitar

I got somethin you oughta hear

Then he laid it on meIf you waste your time a talkin

To the people who dont listen

To the things that you are sayin

Who do you thinks gonna hear?And if you should die explainin

How the thing they complain about

Or the things they could be changin'

Who do you thinks gonna care?There were lots of other singers

In the world turned deaf and blind

Who were crucified for what they tried to showNow their voices have been scattered

By the swirlin' winds of time

And the truth remains that no one wants to knowWell, the old man was a stranger

But Id have heard his song before

Back when failure had me locked out

On the wrong side of the doorNo one stood behind me

But my shadow on the floor

And lonesome was more than a state of mindYou see the Devil haunts a hungry man

And if you dont wanna join him

Well, hes gotta figure out someway to beat himAnd I aint sayin I beat the Devil

But I drink his beer for nothin

And then I stole his songYou can still hear me singin

To the people who dont listen

To the things that I am sayin

Prayin someones gonna hearAnd I guess Ill die explainin'

How the things that they complain about

Are things they could be changin

Hopin someones gonna careI was born to be a singer

And Im bound to die the same

But Ive got to feed this hunger in my soulIf I never have a nickel

I wont even die in shame

Cause I dont believe

That no one wants to know

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