The tramp lives out on the city street
Cold and ragged with nothing to eat
Where does he go what does he do
Bottle in a brown bag
Holes in his shoes
Plastic bags as a duvet the park bench a pillow
Asleep in the graveyard under the willow
But not tonight he's been picked up
Thrown in the back of that old police truck
Stuck in a bell for just one night
But it's warmer in here so that's alright
He will be given food and a place to rest his head
Lucky tramp really by morning could be dead
It's minus 1 and freezing outside
But yet not 1 tear fell from tramps eye
But come the morning he will be let go
Released without charges and nobody knows
So what happened to tramp
Well let's wait and see
Oh I already know for that tramp was me
© Valhalla bound