From The Ragged-Man's Gospel...
Just got up one morning and I left.
I've been leaving ever since.
I left my wallet and forgot my name.
I left my sanity,
that and my school books.
Nothing is worth nothing.
I follow these tracks, leading nowhere.
Never will catch up to that light.
Eleanor asked me for five bucks.
I busted her across the jaw.
She already had five.
Little Red shouldn't have
shown me her tattoos.
I ate them for breakfast.
I argue with these tracks every day.
They tell me that I exist.
I insist they lie.
They're just lying angels
taking their time before catching me
and sending me to hell.
I don't believe in hell,
and it sure as hell don't believe in me.
We're nothing from nothing.
You're just a shit pile in ancient rags.
Where'd you get so wasted?
What do you want?
You got a tattoo like Little Red
on your ass?
I'll eat yours for dinner --
a skinny thing like you
don't need no ass anyway.
You on their side?
You another lying angel?
Ugly, stupid, freak.
I've got my philosophy,
don't need none of yours.
Love is shit, horse shit, train o'shit.
Step back old man!
Who the hell are you?
I don't know you -- never saw you before --
intersecting time in timeless dimensions,
don't mean nothing to me --
no flower grows on these tracks!
There's no going back, I tell you! I left!
I can't go back. There is no going back.
What is home?
Serious? Yes, I think about it
all the time everyday.
Home is not being able to hurt
anyone anymore. That's it.
That's exactly it.
Home is not being able to hurt anyone anymore.
Crazy dancing old man.
What the hell you mean, "You won again?"