Look over there another sad soul
I wonder his story, why he sleeps in the cold
Did a war take him places he can\'t come back from?
Or was it some sort of friction, like fighting addiction.. or both?
Sitting there patient with a can in hand
Shaking it gently, this shell of a man
Clothes in tatters while the passer by\'s scatter, making sure to keep a distance from him
A lady drops spare change it lands with a ting
Her face cringes helplessly but tries to grin
She pulls back up quickly and a smile she tries
He looks up at her as she scurries from him
After a few more donations he moves his location, looking to make just a little more
He heads down the block and sits in a spot that happens to be \'round the corner from the liqueur store
What is your story, what led you here, was it a heartbreak your soul never cleared?
Don\'t let your heartache rule you and dictate all of the choices that wont let you win
He\'s made what he needed to go \'round the bend, he opens the door to find a spirit within
He exits the store with a brown paper bag
He hasn\'t drank from a glass since many years past
He fervently twists the screw on cap off
He guzzles so quickly he let\'s out a cough
Away with the tension with each dose of medicine, as he has called his bottle before
Has he given up on a purposeful life
Does he somewhere have kids and a wife?
Has he given more then he ever intended, to a hopelessness that he\'s long defended?
I\'m sure he has every excuse in the book why he can\'t change and wouldnt if he could. His medicine surely will soon be gone. And he\'ll have withdrawls before the coming of dawn