Well, I found him in 
PensacolaIn a trailer in the sand
The man from the picture
Creased and yellowed in my hand
Creased and yellowed in my hand
He was squinting and stubbled
And standing in the door
He said, "If you've come to take the car awayI don't have it anymoreI don't have it anymore"
He got the gospel on the radio
And the gospel on 
TVHe got all of the transcripts
Back to 1963
Back to 1963
He said, "I sold my blood for moneyThere wasn't any painBut I just can't stand the feelingIt's in someone else's veinsIt's in someone else's veins"
Momma took me aside
And she tried to change my mind
She said, "Don't waste your time in lookingThere's nothing, nothing left to findNothing, nothing left to find"
So I left him in 
PensacolaIn a trailer in the sand
The man from the picture
Creased and yellowed in my hand
Creased and yellowed in my hand