Bent and broken, she stumbles along
Looking for a place to sleep
Tired and lonely, her family now gone
She has no tears left to weep

Eighty years old, she's seen it all
A woman who fell through the cracks
She keeps marching on refusing to fall
Not caring for the things that she lacks

Another victim of circumstance
She keeps looking for something to eat
She looks through trash to find her next meal
A task she's cursed to repeat

Fifteen years it's been this way
She no longer knows the meaning of shame
Once she owned a home and her dreams
But now she has the recession to blame

She keeps moving on from place to place
Doing what she can to get by
Her home is now a cardboard box
The place where she'll probably die

She sits all alone with all that she owns
Underneath a broken street light
She lays herself down in her cardboard home
And passes away in the night