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A man in ragged, dirty clothes And bare feet Sits on the corner of my road. He drinks his pain away, Scrounging money from the gutters. People won't look Into his sad, pained eyes Because they don't want to help. He whistles a tune, Slow and mournful, And pulls his tattered blanket Tighter...

A man in ragged, dirty clothes And bare feet Sits on the corner of my road. He drinks his pain away, Scrounging money from the gutters. People won't look Into his sad, pained eyes Because they don't want to help. He whistles a tune, Slow and mournful, And pulls his tattered blanket Tighter...