On a dark and lonely city street
A tired old man beds down for the night
He’s cold and hungry but bears no mind
As he curls up in a door way out of sight

News papers stuffed inside his shirt
Cardboard to help keep him warm
This lonely old man has no where to go
For him, a door way is home

His clothes are dirty
All tattered and torn
His socks full of holes
For his shoes are all worn

Living off scraps he finds discarded
He’s almost dead on his feet
Still he finds strength to beg a few coppers
From people who pass by on the street

Young ones they mock him
And sneer in disgrace
They taunt him and tease him
They spit in his face

To them he’s trash
He deserves nothing more
Just a dirty old tramp
Who sleeps on the floor

But this man he has seen better days
Things haven’t always been this sad
He had a career, a home, a wife
Then something changed and all turned bad

This man he was a soldier
Who went out and fought a war
To give us freedom and a voice of our own
He thought we were worth fighting for

Society rewards him by turning their back
On this hero who once stood proud
Now he’s reduced to living rough on the street
Ignored by the passing crowd

This unsung hero of yester year
Forgotten as a thing of the past
Curls up in a doorway and rests his head
And prays that the next day will not be his last