I see the man who sleeps under the bridge,
he sings my song,  doesn't subscribe to your point of view,
lives between the gaps,  in places you've never seen,
he doesn't see the flag you wave,
nor cares to carry the message it bears
he see's the powers that be watching you fall,
marching to the beat of the new democracy,
freedom from the back of your privilege class,
while we all walk on the broken glass,
he hears the birds sing of a call to arms,
high in the tree's beyond your ivory towers,
through his tears we see it's time for a change,
as the wind blows through your corridors of power,
I'll search for the man who sleeps under the bridge.