I started writing this song
Ended up writing about Dennis Hopper,
See him wasted on the sidewalk
In his jacket and his jeans
Full of money, love, and dreams
Which he spent like they was
And he keeps right on a -changin'
For the better or the worse
Never knowin' if believin'
He's a po et, he's a picker
He's a prophet, he's a pusher
He's a pilgrim and a preacher
And a problem when he's stoned
He's a walking contradiction
Partly truth and partly fiction
Takin' ever wrong direction
On his lonely way back home
He has tasted good and evil
in your bedrooms and your bars
Running from his devil's lord,
Losing all the love along the way
But if this world keeps right on turning,
for the better or the worse,
and all he ever gets is older and around,
from the rocking of the cradle
to the rolling of the hearse,
He's a pusher, he's a pilgrim,
and a problem when it's stoned.
He's a walking contradiction,
partly truth and partly fiction,
taking ever wrong direction
on his lonely way back home.
There's a lot of wrong direction
on that lonely way back home.