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


[Verse 1]
        F#                              B
I was stumble bummin' down them neon Music City sidewalks
        C#                                B                F#
With a junkie and a juicehead who had problems of their own
            F#                                   B
Stuck with luck that kept me standin' just a step away from starvin'
          C#                               B                 F#
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
        F#                                 G#             C#
And my only set of clothes was gettin' closer to the bone
          F#                                 B
Then the junkie placed an order with the prophet on the corner
          C#                                   B              F#
While he told us of the soul that he'd been sellin' for a song

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

[Verse 2]
          F#                                  B
Well, I drank the whole thing over puttin' one and two together
        C#                           B              F#
And it added up to more of what I didn't want to be
          F#                            B
I ain't blamin' Music City, but it's only gonna see me
          C#                              B                 F#
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
       F#                                G#             C#
In a prophet pushin' daydreams on the corner for a fee
       F#                         B
And a wino lookin' lonely at a bottle gettin' empty
       C#                              B             F#
And a hungry lookin' junkie huntin' tea and sympathy

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