On the streets

This is a song my brother wrote a couple of years back. I still like it

Does he make you feel scared
like a black serpent does
when you walk late at night
he’s asleep on the grass?
Well put yourself in his place, if you can, if you must
who’s the one to feel fearful who can this man trust?

On the streets

Well you’ve got your three meals
And you’ve got your five days
Not to mention four wheels
to cruise those highways
and our fortress protects us like yachts in the bay,
whats he got besides having to face a new day?

On the streets

The stars for his bed burn the mind like the lies that we’re told
Of our forefathers bled for our lives but that tie’s getting old
now the homeless are many while few hoard the riches and hold
And the serpent exists but he’s not on the streets in the cold

Did you ever assume
she took too many loans
in her days as a mother
with the children at home?
Now she’s pushing that trolley with all that she owns
through the city of folly, of fashion, of foam

Through the streets

She was never a mother, and never her mother ever knew
through her father she suffered enough of incestual abuse
to be pushing that trolley since she was thirteen and it’s true
can’t go near now before she is stricken with fear through and through

So she’s pushing her founds
through the lights and the sounds
but it helps to forget
to forget what she’d found.
He was in the fresh air,
dead still all around
his heart full of shame
his own gambled life now

to the streets

And the stars for his bed burn the mind like the lies that we’re told
Of our troops, how they bleed for our lives, when it’s just for the gold
Ask the homeless, they’ll tell you this city we’re in’s lined with holes
And the serpent’s still lurking but he’s not on the streets in the cold

What’s expected in this
most material of place
Is to sharpen your weapons
and harden your face
It’s a shame to our day,
from the day when all races
start running, shake hands,
making plans for some grace

For the streets

-Evan Wells