Poor Lost Soul - James McMurtry

You heard the bright lights calling

Many years ago

You never came back crawling

How you hung in there I don’t know

You’re at home in the big town

You got it all figured out

Back home they can’t believe it

They don’t know what you’re about

Your sister loves jesus

She drives an oldsmobile

Says you ought to come visit

Says what you need is a home-cooked meal

And she prays for your poor lost soul

And she prays for your poor lost soul

Your brother was a doctor

They sent him to the pen

Medicare fraud

They say he’s doing it again

Your mother’s doing all right

She owns a quick-stop store

She used to call every Sunday

But she doesn’t anymore

Sometimes you got to wonder

How it all would’ve been

And you wonder if you had to

Could you go back again

You fly home for christmas dinner

It’s just like the good old days

Fighting with your mom

Fighting with your sister

Your brother had sense

So he stayed away

Back home in the big town

You got it all figured out

And isn’t it a comfort knowing

Without a doubt