A Few Tricks Along the Way

It ain’t the number, it’s the man

It’s not that I only do what I can

Sometimes I run smack into the plan

I conjured up long ago

For all the promise we held at birth

The game was played on dead scorched earth

Had to scratch and claw to show our worth

And still you never know

When that volcano is ready to blow

So ain’t it grand at this resting place?

View is clear and I can see the way

Got some lines etched into my face

Picked up a few tricks along the way

Beats the alternative any day.

It’s not the medals, so it must be the soul

They gave us a taste but we swallowed it whole

Paid back most of what they said we stole

Gonna have to be good enough

Some folks say I’m filthy with sin

Places I knock won’t let me in

They ain’t got a clue about where I’ve been

Yeah, we’ve all had it rough

That and a nickel and I’ll call your bluff ...........

So ain’t it grand at the top of this hill?

Shivering and hungry in the fog and the cold?

Vision gets blurry but there’s heart and there’s will

Don’t have to tell me we’re getting old

Ain’t those years worth their weight in gold?

And I’m eyeing that deck,

with a few cards still

Hit me again, ain’t ready to fold.

Lots to this story yet to be told.

So if it ain’t the battered boy, it must be the man

If it ain’t the wanted poster, it must be the plan

Is that the same old rusted can

They’re still trying to kick down the road?

So if it ain’t the distance, it must be the time

I ain’t no lawyer, but is it a crime

To go on this long and still be in our prime?

Still carry our share of the load?

I know it ain’t over ‘til the fat lady sings

And the arrows of misfortune still cut and still sting

Picked up some tricks and I know when to bring

A little sweetness to the gunfight

A little love into the night

We never believed the lies, my brother

That it was six of one, half dozen of the other

Spat in their face, said give me another

But they just drew a blank

We took their money to the bank.

It’s not the years, so it must be the time

Not the stumble so it must be the climb

Every moment was not sublime

But we knew that’d be so

Got someplace better to go?

So ain’t it something that the sun will rise

Each crazy day, it never fails?

And it’s OK that there isn’t a prize

When the coin flip turns up tails.

So three score and seven, another grand day

Little piece of heaven, a few tricks along the way

Beats the alternative any day

And I’m still finding my way.

We're still finding our way.