On doorsteps and in alleyways
|
I see these fools passed out
|
At any time of the day
|
Crashed out in a bed of piss
|
Empty bottle cradled in their arms.
|
|
So tell me
|
Who's job is it to tend these few people?
|
Back to self-sufficiency and respect
|
I turn my head it puts chills in my heart
|
If I give you some change to clear my mind
|
Would I have played my part?
|
There's a man who has a dream
|
But never seems to make it
|
'Cause everytime he gets some, someone tries to take it.
|
|
A second chance at life, no one will give him
|
In an alley wat is where he's livin'
|
You see him there you walk by laughing and smirking
|
Thinking to yourself it's only his fault, he ain't working.
|
|
That might be true but it's only half the story so
|
Kick back while we tell you his story.
|
|
He came back from the war a veteran
|
The only thing he learned to do was kill and shoot a gun.
|
That comes in handy when you're fighting a war
|
But when you came back to society you need much more.
|
So all he had was terror in his mind
|
No job skills so a job he couldn't find.
|
The only thing he had was memories
|
Of his friends being killed and crying and dying babies.
|
|
So he grabbled bottle for an escape
|
From all the mental torment that the war had made.
|
Now you're calling him a bum 'cause he can't get none
|
While you're sitting at home not willing to get some.
|
|
Sharing and caring is what he needs now
|
Some support for his marals, some help for his ego.
|
So he can go to the top where every man can
|
And all he really needs is a helping hand.
|
|
So tell me
|
Who's job is it to tend these few people?
|
Back to self-sufficiency and respect
|
I turn my head it puts chills in my heart
|
If I give you some change to clear my mind
|
Would I have played my part?
|
|
Cold dark and lonely
|
Broken and abused
|
Homeless hungry and hated
|
Forgotten
|
Only remembered on the streets
|
And they're down, down and out.
|
|
-----------------
|
Down And Out
|
| The Accused |
