David Does Bob McDill's "If You Think I'm Crazy Now (You Should Have Seen Me When I Was A Kid)"

"If You Think I'm Crazy Now (You Should Have Seen Me When I Was A Kid)"

I been wired since I can't remember when
You seen me out, most every night with a dissipated grin
All my life I been labeled loob and lout
But now I think, I'm finally wearin' down

I may rock and and may roll, I may sleep out in the cold
But I can still stay up the six days in the row
But I know the things I do don't compare with the things I did
If you think I'm crazy now, should've seen me when I was a kid

I been wild yeah, I been wasted stoned and stooped
Stayed out nights and started fights and mowed out two bar stools
All these years but it's been bedrooms bars and beers
But now, I'm in this finally drawnin' near.

Well, I may rock and and may roll, I may sleep out in the cold
But I can still stay up the six days in the row
But I know the things I do don't compare with the things I did
If you think I'm crazy now, should've seen me when I was a kid

If you think I'm crazy now, should've seen me when I was a kid

Kris Kristofferson's The Pilgrim, Chapter 33 By Gerry Hubbard

See him wasted on the sidewalk in his jacket and his jeans,
Wearin' yesterday's misfortunes like a smile
Once he had a future full of money, love, and dreams,
Which he spent like they was goin' outta style
And he keeps right on a'changin' for the better or the worse,
Searchin' for a shrine he's never found
Never knowin' if believin' is a blessin' or a curse,
Or if the goin' up was worth the comin' down

He's a poet, he's a picker
He's a prophet, he's a pusher
He's a pilgrim and a preacher, and a problem when he's stoned
He's a walkin' contradiction, partly truth and partly fiction,
Takin' ev'ry wrong direction on his lonely way back home.

He has tasted good and evil in your bedrooms and your bars,
And he's traded in tomorrow for today
Runnin' from his devils, lord, and reachin' for the stars,
And losin' all he's loved along the way
But if this world keeps right on turnin' for the better or the worse,
And all he ever gets is older and around
>from the rockin' of the cradle to the rollin' of the hearse,
The goin' up was worth the comin' down

He's a poet, he's a picker
He's a prophet, he's a pusher
He's a pilgrim and a preacher, and a problem when he's stoned
He's a walkin' contradiction, partly truth and partly fiction,
Takin' ev'ry wrong direction on his lonely way back home.
There's a lotta wrong directions on that lonely way back home.