He sits on the corner of the street
by the Churches and pubs for people to meet
they pass him by, trying not to exchange
looks as he asks for any spare change
He lost his hearing in World War 2
wears home made clothes and two odd shoes
he spends his day begging for your money
prostrations of thanks for every penny
His hair is long, unbrushed and matted
his attire poorly kept with clothes tattered
some people avoid, but some take pity
and drop loose change into his kitty
As money is dropped, he leans forward to look
counts out the coins, writes them in his book
never misses a day, come wind or rain
Dobry Czlowiek. This is his name
A frail old man, just passed 98
begging on streets for pennies to take
each night he'll pack up and wander home
to his one roomed squat to sleep all alone
Up early to the street corner again
for many years now begging for change
many passers by would often wonder
what habits this man uses money to squander
Be it whiskey or cider or maybe drugs
a new hearing aid for his deaf old lugs
begging is stealing, some are quick to say
they don't give a penny and just walk away
'Til one winter's morning pennies did drop
but no profound thanks from this old pop
he stares straight ahead all milky eyed
no breath on his lips. Dobry has died
Authorities come to the street to check
to remove the body of Dobry Czlowiek
they collect his wares, cup, pen and book
A quick look inside to see what he took
Listed in his ledger, pennies collected each day
over 400,000, he gave it all away
a new roof for the church at St Hawthorns
and money for food for local orphans
Donations for charities and lots of good causes
begging everyday without any pauses
Dobry Czlowiek don't you understand
translating his name 'A Good Man'
