For seven days a week I’m constantly having a break .
See I’m homeless on a holiday ,
with a hunger ache .
I like holidays like anyone else
down by the sea,
but I live a rough and free life ,
so please don’t bother me .
Frequently I have no place but the beach to rest my head ,
and it makes me mad when I see seagulls are better fed .
You call me a bum and offer me nothing more than scoff ,
Maybe if you knew me better ,
your hard heart would turn soft .
The story I’ll tell you is as true as you’ll ever hear ,
of what happened on my first holiday there yesteryear .
I arrived in the summertime ,
at this swell resort place .
With money in my wallet
and time to find open space .
The first day I arrived
I took a walk under the moon .
Returning I discovered someone had been in my room .
All I had was stolen ,
money , clothes and everything .
I informed the police who said that’s tough and did nothing .
I could not pay the hotel and was kicked out on the street .
Weeks passed and I got hungry
and soon I became quite was weak .
I could not get a job ,
my appearance took a nose dive .
Eating scraps from garbage bins was a way to stay alive .
Like a dog tied to a chain
I slept around by the bay ,
perplexed by everybody who came on a holiday .
Like a dog not letting go of a bone between its teeth ,
I waited for some justice to fall homeless on the beach .
I knocked on doors and asked for nothing more that a quick snack .
Some refused to help me out ,
others asked me to come back .
I watched the holiday makers come in all their glamour ,
Driving in their big fancy cars ,
with too much bling to care .
Every day I thought,
there for the grace of God there go I .
The circumstance of life sometimes decides who pass us by .
I stood outside the hotel there
where I was robbed that day ,
and all I got was verbal threats
then told to go away .
Too tired to argue ,
too upset to speak ,
I was a mess .
How much does a good sleep cost
when you’ve got no place to rest .
The night times are long and lonely until the light of dawn .
When morning comes you find that you’ve been awake all night long .
Homeless on a holiday
in a seaside neighbourhood .
There’s no rest for the wicked
and even less for the good .
When you’re homeless like me you just try to keep out of sight
So goodbye from me I’m sleeping under the stars tonight .


By Paul McCann