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Sitting on a bench admiring
The writings on the wall
It’s a cold december night and they just finished with last call
Soon they’ll stumble out to catch the last ride home
It doesn’t matter so much
When you’ve got nowhere-else to go

The streets are quiet, my boots are tied
Covered in papers, I say my prayers
I hope they won’t run me off this night
Where can I go? when they won’t have me anywhere

People look and stare
They smugly pass their judgments
After all this time, I wish I didn’t care
They never walked a mile
In my shoes, but I guess that maybe
They don’t have time for truth

If they understood that I was once like them
With a job, a family, dreams and plans
Maybe then they’d show some empathy
Or at the very least, see me as I am
Down on my luck, but still a human being

The streets are quiet, my boots are tied
Covered in papers, I say my prayers
I hope they won’t run me off this night
Where can I go? when they won’t have me anywhere

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