In my rags I walked up and down my old shopping parade,

My long grey hair blew in my eyes

My neglected grey beard would itch around my neck,

The scene was thunderous black sky’s

My old torn coat flapped in the wind,

The old torn coat that was my home,

At the top of the road was my old pub,

How could I have gotten so down.

I sat in a shop doorway out of the wind,

As the evening darkened the day,

Sitting there staring at the lighted pub,

My mind just drifted away.

Did I tell you about my happy old days?

When I was young, smart and clean.

When I could cope with life and whatever it threw,

Because I was cold, hard and mean.

I snapped out of my dream as I heard a voice,

That seemed very familiar to me,

My brother walked past and threw me some change,

A dirty old tramp he could see.

I watched as he walked off down the parade,

And remember when we were very small,

He is a couple of years older than me,

But that did not matter at all.

We played in fields of wheat laughing, running and having fun,

Those are the days I remember well, the day’s when the sun always shone,

We were friends playing games and friends holding hands,

Then one day I just looked around and everything had gone.

Did I tell you about the time I fell into a pond?

The side caved in so did I,

Soaking and drying off in the sun,

Under the deepest of deep blue sky.

I must have fallen asleep it is now near dawn,

And people have begun going their way.

People walk past my bundle of rags,

A start to another new day.

So I stood up and looked in a shop window,

And started to brush up my face,

I caught my reflection in the shop’s glass plate,

And I bowed my head in disgrace.