HoboI used to walkthe downtown streetswith a guitar on my backand blood on my feetthen one day I met a lonely young manhe had a smooth voice and an old tin canwe became friendsa travelling groupI called him Solacehe called me Soupthen, one daySolace was goneand I wasn't readyto be all aloneI spent weeks seeking for Solacebut when I did find himhe'd been hit by a busSo I had a funeralin Solace's nameand left his tin canon top of his grave
The Children's WalkThere is a light bulb in the groundWhere it sheds no lightFor children walking the streetsHoping to collide with the nightThey have dancing voicesThat cannot be heardand glittering eyes That no longer observeTheir broken-hearted bonesThat can't be reflectedAre walking aroundIn the dark, undetectedBut if we dug up that dusty old bulbAnd held it up for the childrenWould the light even shine?And who would protect them?
There are...There are...Warm hands Wrapped gently Around mineThere are...Dark eyesReflecting hopeNo matter whatThere are... Kind wordsFlowing freelyFrom our mindThere are...a bunch Of little butterfliesIn my gutThere are...A million thingsThat make up LOVE
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