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