| A | G | A | |
| He walks these tracks and n | ever looks ar | ound |
| G | A | A7 | |
| He bums what he can | get in any | town |
| D | D7 | A | |
| He's | grown content to | live on chari | ty |
| G | A | |
| I've been down so long it | looks like up to | me |
| I make excuses when I read his name |
| On the side of some old dirty train |
| It conjures up a taste of fantasy |
| I've been down so long it looks like up to me |
| I've been down so long it looks like up to me |
| Well I pushed him off the ladder of success |
| But down here on the bottom I get rest |
| Oh uh he saves his thoughts to buy a memory |
| I've been down so long it looks like up to me |
| Ohh I put my finger in his mind's eye |
| And I've given him a reason now to cry |
| I put his song of life in the wrong key |
| I've been down so long it looks like up to me |
| by: José Duarte |
| jtduarte1@gmail.com |