He wonders along in his tattered rags
Clothes which were once serve good even expensive,
He did buy them.
Some were given to him, some he stole.
He stole them on the street and in the store.
He has a house but house is no home.
Yes there's a door some windows a roof
A porch some steps all in disrepair.
There is even a mother
Or at least she was at the time of his birth.
For you see there haven't been any
Tender feeling since he was a totter
Or none that he could remember anyway.
He has no love in his heart
Least none he wants to acknowledge.
He had sex and it was good,
But true love escapes him,
He's girlfriends and friend girls
But they too, seem not to grasp this love thing.
One once said he was a father
But, he thinks maybe she only wanted money,
Now anybody would do.
For it takes a lot of that
To get along in the world you know.
Friends oh there's been a few.
Ones did the others all doing their thing.