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Months back I was walking to a meeting in Manhattan and I had some time to kill so I grabbed something to eat. On my way out I ran into a man who’d run into hard times and wound up homeless, something we walk past everyday. So I gave him a few dollars and talked to him for a few minutes but what stuck with me were his words and they became this song. It isn’t a big production or an album cut, just something that was written and recorded that day and I feel like putting out now. These type stories are to be retold not sold
Verse 1
Im Sorry to waste your time on my conversation
I know you see my way of life, n contemplated
How’d he get here, you should really not fear
But I swear I still hear it when you say, I’m a damn shame
N walk away, walk on
I aint live in so long, so long so long
But who u really foolin
Walk past me n stare straight, like u aint scared straight
To see the same the fate, that I’m seeing
What you see when you seeing me?
Or can to even tell from peripheral
How you be when I’m on the scene
Sorry to lose my cool, I know I don’t have the right to
But look, I don’t find hope when the sky blue
And I don’t feel no way about the clouds or a rainy day
Everything just settles in a shade of gray
Don’t you think I got some shit to say?
Don’t you wanna hear it?
Or does it scare you that we share some similarities
Imagine this I was once somebodies child
They held me tight by they heart, bet I brought smiles
Lost, tryna find my way back day by day
But all I seem to say is, thank you anyway
Chorus
Maybe they aint problems if we all got em
Maybe they aint problems if we all got em
Show respect on the come up
Cause don’t all of us go up
But baby we all come down x 2
Verse 2
Yea spare change if ya got it, bottom of ya pocket
To bottom of the barrel, tend to find the bottom of bottles
Without a battle, or ride that white horse no saddle
That’s all I am?
Funny thing, I still see this life as a blessing
Even though my life become the lesson
I’m the lesser of fortune, perfection of torture
Professor of the derelicts, dweller of tenements
Entrances, This bench I sit in all temperatures
You want adventure, join me in the wild
I’m America’s child,
So spare change if ya got it, bottom of ya pocket
To bottom of the barrel
Situation slipped, fell my way up off the ladder
Never know my story, the fall from grace
If all you see’s a life of waste, well thank you anyway
Chorus Repeat Until fade
