Hold your fire
Don't shoot me
I'm in need of a friend
And I'm cold and seeking shelter from the storm
Put aside your rifle
Help me steer around the bend
Help me find my way back to the road for home
You see I'd grown my hair, I got my head all straight
Went after the American dream
But I always ended up outside looking in on someone's scene
I was raised on hope and plastic carrot strung out right before my face
I chased every pretty woman looking my way twice but they all disappeared without trace
I've been shoved around from town to town it came so naturally
I've been stopped and searched maybe fourteen times on my way from A to B
I've been pointed at by children while I was sleeping in the park
And I was heading home dejected when I scared you in the dark
Hold your fire
Don't shoot me
I'm in need of a friend
And I'm cold and seeking shelter from the storm
Put aside your rifle
You could see me there at every happening with my album by the Byrds
I was shown how to question the great "I Ching" but I could dig some of the words
I've smoked a ton of marijuana, I sat crossed legged till my legs went numb
I made peace signs at the farmers when they called me a no good bum
I've read pornographic literature and I've studied the underground press
I had given my all to Krishna who I was told would not take less
I spent three weeks making necklaces from oriental beads
They were stolen by my guru while I was high on glory seeds
Hold your fire
Don't shoot me
I'm in need of a friend
And I'm cold and seeking shelter from the storm
Put aside your rifle
See I'd taken to wearing sandals and I'd given up watching T.V.
I was rolling up grass in the American flag and I was sick from snorting "C"
I blew my mind out on a trip one night and I ran all the way back to town
But the minute I saw the lights in their faces I freaked and turned right around
Well my skin turned yellow and my eyes sunk back from my diet of boiled brown rice
I would shuffle past bright warm houses to my groove pad cold as ice
I've been beaten down and busted and I've wound up on my own
And there's nothing left that buzzes me so I'm returning home
Hold your fire
Don't shoot me
I'm in need of a friend
And I'm cold and seeking shelter from the storm
Put aside your rifle