You think you've given and you have in part,
but only of money and not of your heart.

Go home to forget them
move that frame made of lead then
and keep your tin man deep inside.

At the hostel
down in Harlem
there is hope and
despair,

things are equal here
where hearts are shared
with tins of beer
and rizla rolling paper

and the evening tapers to
a sharp end
someone coughing in
the West End
and someone coming to
a dead end

but you think you've given
and go on as it were
living
until you don't or if you
did you think you won't
make the same mistakes

all it takes,
a heart that breaks
a tiny bit
gives a little bit
and
all it takes comes
to an end.

time to spend a bit of love
on some time
with some other .