I wake up another day boring
Waking up freezing cold
To another cold morning
I crawl out my box I like to call home
I don't have much and for a while I've been alone
I lost my job around a decade ago
Became an alchoholic
And my wife said, "I have to go..."
So much for love being symbolic
I grab an old cart from a local store
I can't afford food bacause I have no money
Lets see if I can make more.
On this warm day that's sunny
I grab some cans and plastic and all I can find
So I can get through the day
And orginize thoughts in my mind.
This had become my life and pretty much my routine
I have a grown up son and daughter
Neither of them wanted me.
I was seen as a mistake
But no one bothered to help
Stess I could no longer take
And still they want me in hell
But now I'm still fighting
Just for one more chance
I am no longer hiding
Even women won't give me a glance
As I collect cans
I get jumped by guys
They take all the money I have
But I never know why?
I try to fight back but I always lose
I get beaten to a pulp
Full with bruises colored blue
As I walk home with a limp
Others stare at me
But no one does a thing
They always pitty me
I crawl back to my alley,
To my box of cardboard
I don't need a key
Don't even have a landlord
So I crawl on my bed
All made of styrofoam
I rest my head
In my home sweet home
