Ballad for the Man of Galilee

There is no rest for the wicked

But what does that say for me?

I’m half way in between hell and back

And nothing’s coming to me for free.


I could walk one thousand miles for the good of man,

or I can turn and walk away,

I’ve got one life left in my pocket,

And I wanted that one for me


There is no rest for the wicked,

and a simple woman I may be

I want to fill flowers in my basket

and run my soul wild and free.


Walking across the desert land,

dreaming about who and what I am,

What has anyone done for me?

No love without favors from anyone,

and it’s the hell that kept me here.


So, there is no rest for the wicked,

as far as I can see,

One life left in my pocket,

and I long to be free.

Just step on by and let me be,

I’m only dreaming as far as I can see.


A wicked soul, they say I am, sinner I may be

Let me rest and forget about me

I have one life left to do my best for the man of Galilee.

Perhaps my life was meant for he.

–JOAN WILEY

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