Don't know why I've been writing these ole' songs
scribblin' down notes on my travelin' along
but the truth seems a little more complicated than that

I've been carrying a club to scare the ghosts out
of their pretty little houses but come home without
anything more than what I left home with

Every now and then I'll come right across 
some fancy little line some prophet must of dropped
on the ground hopin' some fool like me would find

And I always wonder why its gotta take so long
to get on movin' after I've been limpin' along
but a bird doesn't ask about its broken wing

Its a hard ole' road, it's a twisted ole' line
and I don't know how the hell I got stuck here inside 
of this mad, morbid, manic, state of mind.

But a dogs gotta eat and a mans gotta fight
for whatever his minds got him thinking is right
I aint found much, but what I've found is mine

So its booze for breakfast to wash down my eggs
and every new friend I got they always say
best be hostage to the lovers that brought you here

Still I gotta question all these actions I've been takin' 
a mans gotta face up to the fears that been chasin' 
him right back into something less than what he is

Cuz' I've seen half-painted portraits of the men there inside
and I've seen a crystal clear image of never makin' a dime
well, reduce resistance and the more cowards you'll find

But ya cant shoot a man who's tryin' to do ya right
like ya cant come home drunk and expect to find
that you're feeling anything more than lonely.

What I've Found(demo)

Calloused Hands

Wind & Moon

Tom Wyatt