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Pensacola

by Joan Osborne

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Hey, hey, yeah hey, yeah hey, yeah hey, yeah hey.
Hey, hey, yeah hey, yeah hey, yeah hey, yeah hey.

Well, I found him in Pensacola in a trailer in the sand,
the man from the picture, creased and yellow in my hand,
creased and yellow in my hand.
He was squinting and stubbled and standing in the door.
He said, "If you´ve come to take the car away,
I don´t have it anymore, I don´t have it anymore."

Hey, hey, yeah hey, yeah hey, yeah hey, yeah hey.
Hey, hey, yeah hey, yeah hey, yeah hey, yeah hey.

He got the gospel on the radio and the gospel on T.V.
He got all of the transcripts back to nineteen sixty-three,
back to nineteen sixty-three.
He said, "I sold my blood for money.
There wasn´t any pain.
But I just can´t stand the feeling.
It´s in someone else´s veins.
It´s in someone else´s veins."

Hey, hey, yeah hey, yeah hey, yeah hey, yeah hey.
Hey, hey, yeah hey, yeah hey, yeah hey, yeah hey.

Momma took me aside and she tried to change my mind.
She said, "Don´t waste your time in looking.
There´s nothin´, nothin´ left to find,
nothin´, nothin´ left to find."
So I left him in Pensacola in a trailer in the sand,
the man from the picture,
creased and yellow in my hand, creased and yellow in my hand.

Hey, hey, yeah hey, yeah hey, yeah hey, yeah hey.
Hey, hey, yeah hey, yeah hey, yeah hey, yeah hey.
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