From the recording This Old Town
Words by Andy Morris and Judy Daigle
Silhouetted from within,
On a plastic panel, oh so thin,
By a guttering candle of wax and wick
Is a lonely figure, cold and sick.
She spends the daylight shuffling about,
Personifying pity and doubt,
Accepting handouts too few give,
She’ll do anything to survive to live.
Street lady tell us your lonely tale,
living inside your worn tattered veil.
In your mind do you see light
or is it as dark as a cold winter night
Singing, muttering, stink and dirt,
There isn’t a single soul she’d hurt.
Some do take pity, some people laugh
As she pushes her treasures along her path.
To where, from where no one cares,
As adults avoid and children stare.
Why she got here, where’s she from
Is ignored by most, a concern to some.
To most she’s just a daily fixture,
Part of the city’s divergent mixture.
no different than a dented can
left in the street by the trash man