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- The ballad of Sean Foley

 

Fell down from your haven
To an empire cityscape
Someone asked him for directions
He would always know the way
Offer you his raincoat
Let you hide under his hat
If you can't walk from whiskey
He'll just throw you on his back

And then away you'll go
Through the crowd gathered below
To the spinning wheels
Of your mobile home
And he'll watch you sleep
Like a guardian angel

Stays inside the music
Sometimes steps outside the law
Always in the name of justice
Still believes in the lost cause
Distract you with a story
Always tries to make you laugh
He brings people together
Like Gertrude Stein and Mama Cass

And he says, "my friends are yours,
This town's full of open doors
To the sold-out shows
Eighth bungalows (?)
And the lonesome smokes
In this tiny studio"

Always finds a muse
Everywhere he goes
Whether it's the blues
Or some abandoned show tune

Learned how to be selfless
How to love what wasn't there
But never dwell upon it
Just embrace what's everywhere
People busking in the subway
MC's freestyle in the park
Heard a kid from Martha's vineyard
Made him turn around his car

And away he goes
To the local radio
Saying, "what's that sound?
I'd like to know,
And this might sound strange,
But I just can't let it go"

Guess every sinner needs a saint
Guess every sinner needs a saint
Guess every sinner needs a saint
Says everybody is the same

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