He sits in the doorway this once proud man
Trying to survive the best he can
His clothes are dirty, tattered and torn
His eyes are empty, his face forlorn
A cardboard box is a roof for his head
Newspaper and rags make up his bed
He has no future, he lives for the day
His past is forgotten, he prefers it that way
We forget that he once had a life
A mother, a father and maybe a wife
We look away, we try not to stare
If we don\'t see him w don\'t have to care
We show him no mercy as we pass him by
But we should be aware
That there for the grace of god go I