We are the misfits with a broken horizon Like Keats or Hemingway, survive with poets defiance Christmas at the Martinique grieving for a home Three generations tough it out on the big street all alone...
Rank of the privileged on the evening commute Don't want to be bothered, don't want to be used booming in suburbia, shuttle's on the way A beggar asks for money. It's a dollar you don't want to pay-
To the Waterfront Weirdos For the Waterfront Weirdos Who are the Waterfront Weirdos?
Many live on the edge, keep them out of sight out of mind In our midst a disgrace-answers are elusive yet we find
It's so damn hard to conceive `till it looks you straight in the eye Just take a walk on West 32nd Street or pick up a New York Times and believe it... Up in an ivory tower it's hard to see, hard to feel, hard to be homeless and one of the outcast-Waterfront Weirdos.
Who are the Waterfront Weirdos?
Many live on the edge, keep them out of sight out of mind In our midst a disgrace-answers are elusive then we find Powerless is a child in the wake of hunger at night Giving up-giving in Can't we hear their screaming from within...?
My life spent standing here in the back of a line I'm living for the moment-yes, I'm living by the hour in a game of survival In a mood of resignation I'm not the man I am- meal ticket, waiting for a handout Things will change and somehow I'll get out I keep telling myself it won't last forever Adversity closing in, my sanity lapses, I'll rise again Resisting the end Only 22 as my apprehension seques into an IMPENDING ASCENSION I could not fake this for long How long am I supposed to take it lying down? I will not take this lying down!
Many live on the edge Keep them out of sight out of mind In the end it is us picking up the pieces that we find On the path of least resistance evidence is loud and clear When will we wake up? Failures are mounting as the underclass grows every year and believe that- Up in an ivory tower it's hard to see, hard to feel, hard to be homeless and one of the Waterfront Weirdos
It's so damn hard to believe `till it looks you straight in the eye Shake the hands of losers lost on Broadway who remember a nostalgic time and believe that- Up in an ivory tower it's hard to see, hard to feel, hard to be homeless
Compositor: Trent Rigel Gardner (Magellan) ECAD: Obra #10470812