To Beat The Devil Lyrics

It was wintertime in Nashville
down on music city row,
and I was looking for a place to get
myself out of the cold
to warm the frozen feeling
that was eating at my soul,
keep the chilly wind off my guitar.
My thirsty wanted whiskey
my hungry needed beans.
But it’d 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 sitting at the
bar,
and in the mirror I could see him checking me and my
guitar.
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’it?’
I just looked at him and he said, ‘You aint making any
money are you?’
I said, ‘You been reading my mail.’
He just smiled and said, ‘Let me see that guitar,
I got something you oughta hear.’
Then he laid it on me…

If you waste your time a talking to
the people who don’t listen to
the things that you are saying who
do you think’s gonna hear?
And if you should die explaining how
the things that they complain about
are 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
nd their voices have been scattered by
the swirling winds of time,
because 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 is more than a state of mind.
See the devil haunts a hungry man.
If you don’t want to join him,
you gotta beat him.
I ain’t saying I beat the devil,
but I drank his beer for nothing
and then I stole his song…

And you still can hear me singing to
the people who don’t listen to
the things that I am saying praying
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 ashamed,
because I don’t believe
that no one wants to know.

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