Michael Hill
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This Is My Job

Michael Hill


So cold and wet in the city,
he washes car windows in the night
Tryin' to make a little change,
from the cars as they wait for the light
People show such hostility,
they tell him to go find some work
To them it's all some kind of joke,
but his eyes show how much jokes can hurt
He tells them: you don't understand, but this is my job,
I may have nothing, I refuse to steal and rob
I never imagined this could happen in my life,
but it has, and I'm tryin' to survive
Walk around after midnight,
there's a whole population on the street
Cardboard box for a pillow,
and the steam from the grating for heat
Sometimes it is so overwhelming,
it can wear down your sympathy
But then you see someone holding on,
to a small piece of his dignity
Saying: you don't understand, but this is my job,
I may have nothing, I refuse to steal and rob
I never imagined this could happen in my life,
but it has, and I'm tryin' to survive
You don't understand, but this is my job,
I may have nothing, I refuse to steal and rob
I never imagined this could happen in my life,
but it has, and I'm tryin' to survive
Tryin' to survive, Lord
Tryin' to survive
Just tryin' to stay alive
This is my job
This is my job
I refuse to steal and rob,
so washing car windows is my job

Compositor: Michael Edward Hill (Hill Michael)
ECAD: Obra #6428080

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