The little head wakes up, his mother's pride
He grew up at home and as a teenager wants to look around
Skateboarding the sidewalks, the neighborhood dazzled him
Turning the corners he touched pleasures, and he touched pain
He fell in love with life every day and every night
Breakfasted with fine ladies, and skipped dinner
Goes walking without purpose with the calm of the vagabond
Letting life set his course and each occasion direct his days
Divine old man, where are you going?
I know very well that you don't want to look back
Bitter end, all that's left today is a scrawny dog
And the depths of a wine bottle to lend warmth
After youth was over, weary from making missteps
He looks for a good wife and fourteen hours' worth of work
But some birds cannot survive in a cage
Their soul is grieving and suddenly they lose the will to sing
The picture fell and shattered well into his forties
Almost without realizing, he became an alcoholic
He kept descending steps, many winters further adrift
Life takes turn after turn and he ended up on the street
Divine old man, where are you going?
I know very well that you don't want to look back
Bitter end, all that's left today is a scrawny dog
And the depths of a wine bottle to lend warmth
Divine old man, where are you going?
I know very well that you can't look back
Bitter end, all that's left today is a scrawny dog
And the depths of a wine bottle to lend warmth
And the depths of a wine bottle to lend warmth
A scrawny dog
And the depths of a wine bottle to lend warmth