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The Junkie and The Juicehead, Minus Me
From the album Kristofferson


[Verse 1]
        A                              D
I was stumble bummin' down them neon Music City sidewalks
        E                                D                A
With a junkie and a juicehead who had problems of their own
            A                                   D
Stuck with luck that kept me standin' just a step away from starvin'
          E                               D                 A
And some talent that I swore I'd show before I'd go back home
Eighty days out of the army makin' neither love nor money
        A                                 B             E
And my only set of clothes was gettin' closer to the bone
          A                                 D
Then the junkie placed an order with the prophet on the corner
          E                                   D              A
While he told us of the soul that he'd been sellin' for a song

            D                             A
He said my fortune was my future, but I let it slip away
         E                              D             A
Slowly smokin' myself broke on eighty cigarettes a day
  D                                      A
Findin' out that crime ain't all there is that doesn't pay
      E                                  N.C.                 
And writin' songs for no one but myself and the juicehead, who said,
  D                                 A
"If I can read my fortune in the bottom of a glass,
    E                               A
And I can see it's time for me to make my last request:
          D                                    A
Will you fill my grave with whiskey when I'm laid away to rest,
        E                               A
So the boys can say I drank my way to hell?"

[Verse 2]
          A                                  D
Well, I drank the whole thing over puttin' one and two together
        E                           D              A
And it added up to more of what I didn't want to be
          A                            D
I ain't blamin' Music City, but it's only gonna see me
          E                              D                 A
One more workday and a wake up and the time it takes to leave
'Cause I got a dirty picture of what could have been my future
       A                                B             E
In a prophet pushin' daydreams on the corner for a fee
       A                         D
And a wino lookin' lonely at a bottle gettin' empty
       E                              D             A
And a hungry lookin' junkie huntin' tea and sympathy

       D                                  A
And I bet that junkie's laughin' at the life he threw away
             E                               D             A
While he's smokin' hisself broke on eighty cigarettes a day
  D                               A
Pleadin' down the prophet to a price that he can pay
      E                                    N.C.
And writin' words that no one's gonna see but the juicehead, who said
D                            A
Every empty bottle is his private crystal ball
           E                               A
Where he stares into the future, findin' nothin' there at all,
         D                                  A
Which is all I'll miss tomorrow when them neon shadows fall
      E                              A A D
On a junkie and a juicehead, minus me.