The second block of the main street of downtown,
In front of the one-word-named-store that sells
Strange clothes, and stranger gadgets, run by a guy with
No less than three piercings, with spiked hair, dyed green
On the bench by the planter next to the newspaper machine
Sits a guy on the guitar, trying to eke out a couple
More dollars to pay for his girlfriend's ring
He wants to propose on her birthday next month
He sings, pours his heart into the words as his voice rings
Guitar case open, filled with change, and a twenty
Clipped to the top in triumph of some kind stranger's
Generous gift to a guy in his shoes from not ten years previous
Farther down the street, a man in rags with a sign
Saying "Give me money" or something to that effect
Unlike many in his situation, he didn't fall on tough times,
He's fine, he just never tried and decides to
Rely on the hearts and kindness of hard-working
Fools who think he's unable to work for his food
He lives off of free, a strong willed greed, not caring
If he ever lives in a mansion, so long as he never has to work for his green
In the alley nearby is some poor guy with a spell so bad he can't get hired,
For even the simplest of jobs because he can't control
His actions, he stares at night and shivers from chills,
How he'd love to have the simplest skills, he'd get a job
If he could, but everything so far is no good,
He pains from the cruelty of the previously mentioned
A miser, lazy, exploiting attention, making his life
Harder since he cant do anything but this guy makes
Cash by shyster-like begging
