So poor I can’t even walk through the door
Head, held low
As I beg for enough change to rampage the 99 cent store
Got anymore?
Low class I’m a beggar, the weather is my umbrella
All day I watch as feet beat the pavement and wonder where the good old days went
So blind to the mind how can I be alive
Sit on the curb and observe as the tourists walk by
It’s real here!
Sleeping with an ear to the streets
No fortune cookie told me my destiny was to not eat
Caged like a bird I can’t leave this square
Knowing if I could fly there’s a world of opportunity out there
But I’m stuck
Like a fiend to the pipe
Sweat during the day just to keep warm at night
Stuck in the city that never sleeps
So to find peace I lay where I may
I’d pray, but I can’t find enough silence to string my thoughts together
Low class I’m a beggar, the weather is my umbrella
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