On doorsteps and in alleyways I see these fools passed out At any time of the day Crashed out in a bed of piss Empty bottle cradled in their arms.
So tell me Who's job is it to tend these few people? Back to self-sufficiency and respect I turn my head it puts chills in my heart If I give you some change to clear my mind Would I have played my part? There's a man who has a dream But never seems to make it 'Cause everytime he gets some, someone tries to take it.
A second chance at life, no one will give him In an alley wat is where he's livin' You see him there you walk by laughing and smirking Thinking to yourself it's only his fault, he ain't working.
That might be true but it's only half the story so Kick back while we tell you his story.
He came back from the war a veteran The only thing he learned to do was kill and shoot a gun. That comes in handy when you're fighting a war But when you came back to society you need much more. So all he had was terror in his mind No job skills so a job he couldn't find. The only thing he had was memories Of his friends being killed and crying and dying babies.
So he grabbled bottle for an escape From all the mental torment that the war had made. Now you're calling him a bum 'cause he can't get none While you're sitting at home not willing to get some.
Sharing and caring is what he needs now Some support for his marals, some help for his ego. So he can go to the top where every man can And all he really needs is a helping hand.
So tell me Who's job is it to tend these few people? Back to self-sufficiency and respect I turn my head it puts chills in my heart If I give you some change to clear my mind Would I have played my part?
Cold dark and lonely Broken and abused Homeless hungry and hated Forgotten Only remembered on the streets And they're down, down and out.