I had this song and Chris saved my life and I wouldn't,
I wouldn't be here if it weren't for this song,
if it weren't for Chris Gustavus.
I'm having a hell of a
hard enough time
for him sitting right there as I play it.
I had a, I had, you know,
a rough time in Nashville.
Like a lot of people,
they get told no a lot.
And I'd played that game where,
you know,
if I get told no one more time,
I'm out of here.
I'm packing up,
I'm going back to North Carolina.
I went into this particular meeting
knowing that this was gonna be the meeting
where it all happens.
And I remember I played
probably a half a song,
and the guy said, started waving his hand,
And he goes, um, I don't,
I don't know where you're
from.
I don't know much about you,
but I'd go back there.
And, and that's one time I was going to,
an d I went to my car in the parking lot
of this publishing house,
and I just got the Austin Sessions on a CD,
and the next song was
to beat the devil.
and it talked about,
it talked about the very thing I was,
I was going through.
So I decided to stay one more day
af ter I got drunk.
I got drunk first,
then I stayed one more day,
and the next day I got a publishing deal,
phone rang. so I'm here.
I'm here because of that man right there.
It was winter time in Nashville,
down on Music City Road,
and I was looking for a place
to get myself out of the cold.
To warm the frozen fever
that was eatin' at my soul.
To keep the chilly wind off my guitar.
My thirsty wanted whiskey,
but my hungry needed beans.
It had been a month of paydays
since I'd heard that eagle scream.
So with a stomach full of empty
In a pocket full of dreams,
I left my pride
and stepped inside a bar.
Actually, I guess you could
call it a tavern.
Cigarette smoke through the ceiling,
sawdust on the floor,
friendly shadows.
I saw that there was just one old man
sitting at the bar.
And the mirror,
could see him checking out
me and my guitar.
And he turned and said,
come up here, boy,
and show us who you are.
I said, I'm dry.
He bought me a beer.
He nodded at my guitar.
He said, it's a tough life, ain't it?
I just looked at him.
He said, you ain't makin' any money,
are you, boy?
I said, mister,
you been readin' my mail.
Need a smile.
He said, let me see that guitar.
I got somethin' you oughta hear.
And he laid it on me.
If you waste your time talkin' to
The people you don't listen to
The things that you are sayin'
Who do you think's gonna hear?
And if you should die, explain it how
The things that they complain about
The things that could be changing
Who do you think's gonna care?
There were other lonely singers
In a world turned up blind
Crucified by what they hadn't shown
And their voices have been scattered
by the swirling winds of time
Cause the truth remains
that no one wants to know
The old man was a stranger,
but I'd heard his song before
Back before failure had me locked
out of both sides of the door
Well, no one stood behind me
but my shadow on the floor
And lonesome was
more than a state of mind
You see, the devil,
he haunts the hungry men
If you don't want to join him,
you got to beat him
I ain't saying I beat the devil,
but I did drink his beer for nothing,
an d I stole that son of a
bitch's song.
And you can still hear me singing to you,
the people that you don't listen to,
the things
That I am safe
And 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
Well, I was born a lonely singer
And I'm bound to die the same
But I've got a fiend to
hunger in my soul
And if I never have a nip,
I won't ever die ashamed
Cause I don't believe
that no one wants to know
Yeah, I don't believe
that no one wants to know
You