Lyrics:
Poor Misguided Soul [Version (a)]:
On the plains of the Buffalo, Madam will take it slow
Your gambling days are gone, you poor misguided soul
At the last ditch you will weep for the shadows in the garbage heap
Like a pig roasting on a spit, your poor misguided soul
If the horse's mouth could speak, his days would turn to weeks
You'd be bored with all that you know, you poor misguided soul
When the cactus makes your bed, you'll stay awake instead
By the bones in the old campfire, your poor misguided soul
Your one dollar up in heaven is worth five more in hell
And your friends, they will not miss you, your poor misguided soul
On the plains of the Buffalo, Madam will take it slow
Your gambling days are gone, you poor misguided soul
At the last ditch you will weep for the shadows in the garbage heap
Like a pig roasting on a spit, your poor misguided soul
If the horse's mouth could speak, his days would turn to weeks
You'd be bored with all that you know, you poor misguided soul
When the cactus makes your bed, you'll stay awake instead
By the bones in the old campfire, your poor misguided soul
Your one dollar up in heaven is worth five more in hell
And your friends, they will not miss you, your poor misguided soul
The Song:
With "Poor Misguided Soul," Beck wrote his own cowboy blues tune. He sings of gambling, and horses, and cacti, and campfires, and heaven and hell. The lines are pretty sharp—"Your one dollar up in heaven is worth five more in hell" and "Like a pig roasting on a spit / Your poor misguided soul"—and Beck performs it with just the right inflection of sadness and sorrow.
With "Poor Misguided Soul," Beck wrote his own cowboy blues tune. He sings of gambling, and horses, and cacti, and campfires, and heaven and hell. The lines are pretty sharp—"Your one dollar up in heaven is worth five more in hell" and "Like a pig roasting on a spit / Your poor misguided soul"—and Beck performs it with just the right inflection of sadness and sorrow.