TO BEAT THE DEVIL

It was wintertime in Nashville down on Music City Row
And I was lookin' for some place to get myself out of the cold
To warm the frozen feelin' that was eatin' at my soul
Keep the chilly wind off me and my guitar
My thirsty wanted whiskey, my hungry needed beans
But it had been a month of paydays since I'd heard that eagle scream
So with a stomach full of empty and a pocket full of dreams
I left my pride and stepped inside a bar
Actually I guess you'd call it a tavern
Cigarette smoke to the ceiling, sawdust on the floor - friendly shadows
I saw that there was just one old man sittin' at the bar
And in the mirror I could see him checkin' me and my guitar
And he turned and said come up here boy and show us what you are
I said I'm dry and he bought me a beer
He nodded at my guitar and said it's a tough life, ain't it?
I just looked at him and he said you ain't makin' any money are you? 
I said you been readin' my mail
He just smiled and said let me see that guitar
I got something you ought to hear; then he laid it on me
If you waste your time a talkin' to the people who don't listen
To the things that you are saying who do you thinks gonna hear?
And if you should die explaining how the thing that they complain about
Or the things they could be changing who do you think's gonna care?
There were other lonely singers in a world turned deaf and blind
Who were crucified for what they tried to show
And their voices have been scattered by the swirling winds of time
Cause the truth remains that no one wants to know
Well the old man was a stranger but I'd heard his song before
Back when failure had me locked out on the wrong side of the door
When no one stood behind me but my shadow on the floor
And lonesome was more than a state of mind
You see the devil haunts a hungry man
If you don't wanna join him you gotta beat him
I ain't sayin' I beat the devil but I drank his beer for nothin'
Then I stole his song
And you still can hear me singin' to the people who don't listen
To the things that I am sayin' prayin' someone's gonna hear
And I guess I'll die explaining how the things that they complain about
Are things they could be changing hoping someone's gonna care
I was born a lonely singer and I'm bound to die the same
But I've gotta feed the hunger in my soul
And if I never have a nickel I won't ever die in shame
Cause I don't believe that no one wants to know