I heard the horns and sax along with the electric guitar, bass, and hard-driving drums. I love that old song… I waited for the lyrics – they came right on cue and progressed right into the famous chorus. I couldn’t begin to count or fathom how many times I’d heard that song or how many times I’d sung along with it.
I listened to the old song from my youth, still enjoying the genius of the lyrics and music, but this time I heard something I’d never heard before, or heard it, but didn’t think about it with this specific perspective. As I finished listening to the old familiar chorus, it hit me…
My mind came back to reality as my eyes popped open from my deep sleep. I happen to be one of those people who enjoy music even when none is playing. I wake daily with a song in my head… sometimes in my heart, but that day it didn’t wake me gently like it normally does at around the standard time I need to wake. This time the lyrics jolted me awake about 3:30 in the morning.
Right after the chorus played I awoke to a new thought, “Tramps like us – baby we were born to run…” I whispered aloud, “Tramps like us,” to remember the thought for after I woke back up later. Tramps like us… Baby we were born to run… There was a time when I felt like that.. and run I did…
The lost human flesh longs to fill the holes in our souls. We crave it… We search the world over, desperate to fill the void with love from another or others, clothes, cars, houses, and all things measured by our senses. It doesn’t seem to matter how good we have it or how successful we are at acquiring the things we seek to fill our senses, praying it will fulfill our hearts, those things never deliver what they promise.
We end up as the vagabond seeking fulfillment in a world that can’t physically supply what it is that we seek to fulfill our souls. We are strangers in a strange land, like aliens trying to fit into a world that we weren’t born for.
Those of us who have had the “Mysteries of the world” revealed to us, know that we are just passing through, like the vagrants riding by in the box car as the clicking of the tracks counts off the seconds in a physically short life. It doesn’t matter if we’re riding in the box car or in the Benz, we’re all passing though this life in search of peace and joy within.
While knowing the Creator of the cosmos does bring peace and joy, we all know that there is pain and heartbreak in this time spent here as we make our way the best we can. We’re beggars in need of a handout. Our Father hands out provision in His grace seeking to guide, not so much our physical lives, but rather our spiritual souls.
He seeks to fill us from the inside with His spirit that controls the cosmos which is the only peace and joy to be had as we pass through as vagabonds or tramps in need of all things. The great thing about the songs playing in our minds is that if we belong to the Father we can change the lyrics around to make even more sense.
This is one of the rewrites that occurred to me; “Someday we’ll walk with the Son – but till then, tramps like us…
Baby we were born to run.