On doorsteps and in alleyways

I see these fools passed out

At any time of the day

Crashed out in a bed of piss

Empty bottle cradled in their arms.



So tell me

Who's job is it to tend these few people?

Back to self-sufficiency and respect

I turn my head it puts chills in my heart

If I give you some change to clear my mind

Would I have played my part?

There's a man who has a dream

But never seems to make it

'Cause everytime he gets some, someone tries to take it.



A second chance at life, no one will give him

In an alley wat is where he's livin'

You see him there you walk by laughing and smirking

Thinking to yourself it's only his fault, he ain't working.



That might be true but it's only half the story so

Kick back while we tell you his story.



He came back from the war a veteran

The only thing he learned to do was kill and shoot a gun.

That comes in handy when you're fighting a war

But when you came back to society you need much more.

So all he had was terror in his mind

No job skills so a job he couldn't find.

The only thing he had was memories

Of his friends being killed and crying and dying babies.



So he grabbled bottle for an escape

From all the mental torment that the war had made.

Now you're calling him a bum 'cause he can't get none

While you're sitting at home not willing to get some.



Sharing and caring is what he needs now

Some support for his marals, some help for his ego.

So he can go to the top where every man can

And all he really needs is a helping hand.



So tell me

Who's job is it to tend these few people?

Back to self-sufficiency and respect

I turn my head it puts chills in my heart

If I give you some change to clear my mind

Would I have played my part?



Cold dark and lonely

Broken and abused

Homeless hungry and hated

Forgotten

Only remembered on the streets

And they're down, down and out.