I walk right past his window when the light is growing dim
He looks away from me and as I glance in at him
He owns one bed, one bookcase and the television
He sits and watches and I’m glad I’m not there with him

There was a time when he was young
There was a time when he had no time to regret what he’d done
There are six men on the ground floor
Three stories up and there are sixteen more
And the stories they tell you think you’ve heard before
But listen closely, to be sure

There was a time when they were young
There was a time when they had no time to regret what they’d done
I see him on the street in the cold
He nods as if to greet me, I feel too young, and he too old
He is a nameless face to me
This is his hiding place I see
He talks to himself, I can see his breath
Sixteen rooms, sixteen men off the meth

There was a time when they were young
There was a time when they had no time to regret what they’d done