to beat the devil

and i'd like to dedicate this to john and june

who helped show me how to beat the devil. it was winter time in nashville

down on music city row. and i was lookin' for a place to get myself out of the cold. to warm the frozen feelin' that was eatin' at my soul. keep the chilly wind off my guitar. my thirsty wanted whisky; my hungry needed beans

but it'd been of 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 could call it a tavern: cigarette smoke to the ceiling and sawdust on the floor;

friendly shadows. i saw that there was just one old man sittin' at the bar. and in the mirror i could see him checkin' me and my guitar. an' he turned and said: come up here boy