Watching traffic, kicking stones
v
He had a crumpled up dollar in his pocket today
lost it through a hole in his ragged jeans
puts rough cuts of cardboard piece's away
slides them in his worn out shoes when it rains
Cops think that poverty has become a crime
What he wears gets him searched..time-after-time
c
Watching traffic, kicking stones
Malls and libraries till they close
In and out of sleep, frozen to the bone
mom speaks softly, son it's time to come home
v
Never moans unless it's 'bout the weather
gets food from our kitchen come rain or shine
sits by himself, others sit together
ask how he is, he'll nod and say, I'm fine
Christmas, he gave me a small wooden box he'd made
Gift-Wrapped in a New York Times front page
b
His foot traps a wind blown glossy magazine
He didn't make the rich list again,but a man can dream
I bet he's been pickin' through a lot trash cans today
wondering why all that amount of good food gets thrown away
c2
Watching traffic, kicking stones
Malls and libraries till they close
In and out of sleep, frozen to the bone
mom speaks softly, son we're all glad your now home