Portrait of the Artist as an Old Man

Lyrics

[Intro] I've had several requests to do this song tonight This is a song I wrote about Phil Ochs about six months before he died This is called "Portrait of the Artist as an Old Man" [Verse 1] He's one of those poets marked for death In the dear old Hemingway style With lecherous leftover wisdom And a disarmingly treacherous smile But now he's a drunkard on the IRT In a harmless and homeless way If you put him on the witness stand He would not have much to say He'd just tell you how it feels to be Layin' on the tracks of age Alone [Verse 2] He was born down on Henry Street Where the gypsies take their toll And learned the hard way against the wall Where the dice take their toll They say he got caught stealin' cards But they don't give a damn 'Cause they've got fifty-one more And he's already showed his hand And bein' crowned a winner Is only bein' half a man When you're alone [Verse 3] Well, he liked his women in sleazy stockings With the number of holes just right For fightin' a case of virtue With frozen tracks of fright With blisters between fingers Where hate has claimed its wealth But saving souls is dangerous And hazardous to your health But their company, though damaged Is better than what he felt Alone [Verse 4] You got to cross that bridge without stoppin' Like it's the only one in town Those pieces of yourself you are droppin' They're just tryin' to drag you down The life you stole in paper cups A few drops at a time The excuses used for dreams That you drank down like wine The litter you called literature That you know ain't worth a dime And the malicious slurs like sewage That seep through the cracks of rhyme And the Coast Guard just picks up the leftovers Tryin' to keep 'em alive And alone [Outro] He's one of those poets marked for death In the dear old Hemingway style