On the day I was born the sky was a pale shade of grey I was swaddled in rags and trailed amongst the hay Though with hard work and good luck I'd tear down the stars from the sky, I was promised the heavens and cast on the pearls before swine
Well I guess that's the way that it goes, From the cradle to the grave it's rags to rags I suppose
Well one night faithful and didn't I say my prayers And I tok care of my own and I did the best I could for the others And I tried, lord knows, to do right by my fellow man Now I'm sitting in the street, a beggar with an upturned hand
Well I guess that's the way that it goes, From the cradle to the grave it's rags to rags I suppose
Now like a wraith I walk the streets alone, too numb to feel Anything but shame and death nippin' at my heels And when I'm gone don't you bother to stand and weep at my grave Just roll the cold plate over and turn and walk away
And say I guess that's the way that it goes, From the cradle to the grave it's rags to rags I suppose.