He lives in a lonely part of town
where the silence is deafening
His weary bones he gently lay
beneath the old oak tree
His sunken eyes, oh, what mystery lies beneath them;
They’ve seen wars and death
Times of famine and drought
Days when poverty and depression
Sucks life like death itself
Those scrawny legs, oh, where they’ve been
in the thickets and forests and rugged mountainsides,
In times of war, when resting was not an option
Those tired legs kept trudging on.
Those old ears, though tiny they seem
have heard from wise and fools alike
silently listening and learning from young and old
Life takes it all from you;
in your happiest moment
It makes you blue,
As if that is not enough,
Death teases you in your loneliness
before it takes the only thing life left you with
life itself.
