First Step

There was a wicked messenger
from Eli he did come,
With a mind that multiplied
the smallest matter
When questioned who had sent for him
he answered with a thumb.
For his tongue it could not speak, but only flatter

He stayed behind the assembly hall,
it was there that he made his bed,
Oftentimes he could be seen returning.
Until one day he just appeared
with a note in his hand which read,

(Rod Stewart, Ron Wood)

Woken up on mornings such as this
Thought exactly the same as I'm thinking now.
Every night for a year I've slept alone.
Cold damp room looks worse than me, no no no

Got a fear of death that creeps on every night.
I know I won't die soon, but then again I might,
Water down the drain, I'm wasting away.
Doctors can't help the ghost of a man that's me

Water down the drain goes to the sea,
The pattern of my life keeps a-haunting me.
Moisture from the ocean fills the sky,
Come on down to the ground as the time goes by
I never found out the reason why
My parents had to lie
About the place that I was born
Or from my hometown I was torn
At the tender age of four
I was livin' by homemade law

(Ronnie Lane, Ron Wood, Rod Stewart)

I'm flying
across the ocean
and I'm soaring
back home
to the place I was born
and probably raised.
And I'm flying
across the mountains and valleys,
back home to the one that I love so happily.

Can ya' blame me for feeling homesick
'cause I've been away such a very long long time
I served a while in the county jail
five years for being hungry tired and poor

On and on
yes I will follow
with your buttons and bows.

Instrumental