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Traveling Man

Traveling Man

 

At first I drove on

With him standing there

But I turned around

And gave him money I could spare

 

He was from California

And wanted to go back

He had no money at all

But had a bottle in a sack

 

He said his name was Mario

And he shook my hand

And I felt good inside

That I could help this man

 

I felt like a winner

For the money I gave

And hoped he would buy dinner

And from booze stay away

 

The last time I saw him

He was headed somewhere new

With a bus ticket in his pocket

And a dollar bill or two