He's the man on the street
listening to the party seep
from three floors above him

Once he had a place
but the booze and crack
and the woman who split

Drew lines in his face
put monkeys on his back
and left him nothing but shit

He needs something to eat
somewhere to sleep
but mostly someone to love him

Invite him in out of the cold
away from the crap he carries
to share your food drink and song

He'll doubtless try to steal,
to scam, to put one over on you
it's just his way of life

It's just his normal deal
it would be your way too
if you live the law of the knife

He'll be dead before he's old
unmourned the day he's buried
from the streets he's known too long.