There is a man who lives on a corner
Where students live, right next to the practice fields.
He's older and a smoker
He stands on the corner everyday
At a four-way stop
Smoking one after another.
I've seen him in snow, bitter cold and sweltering hot days.
Always smoking
He's out all day it seems,
Watching the cars pass by
Pausing in confusion because they don't know how to obey a stop sign.
I think he must laugh sometimes
Watching the world pass by.
I've seen him for years but I've never known his name
He almost seems like an old friend sometimes
I pass by and see him there nearly every time
I always wonder why
What led him to a life of smoking all the time?
I know the answer I heard it one time,
A veteran who didn't come back alright,
people whisper in shame as they pass by.
But his eyes are a genuine kind.
He smokes, killing time.
I wonder if he's just waiting to die
But still I see him and he brings a smile to mind.
To the man on the corner, smoking all the time.