Still Tryin'

Bluejeans worn clean through to my knees

And my collar is limp and frayed

The soles of my shoes are somewhere behind

I think I lost them along the way

My story's full of pages torn with creased-wrinkled lines

The bottoms of my pockets have holes worn through

Like the holes in my tired mind in my tired mind

A man told me in confidence that heaven knows I'm here

And he read it from a book from another time

He mumbled and it didn't seem clear

He talked of a god and his only son