Well, I found him in Pensacola   In 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 away   I don't have it anymore   I don't have it anymore"      He got the gospel on the radio   And the gospel on TV   He got all of the transcripts   Back to 1963   Back to 1963      He said, "I sold my blood for money   There wasn't any pain   But I just can't stand the feeling   It's in someone else's veins   It'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 looking   There's nothing, nothing left to find   Nothing, nothing left to find"      So I left him in Pensacola   In a trailer in the sand   The man from the picture   Creased and yellowed in my hand   Creased and yellowed in my hand