A couple of rats laughing
In the height of rodent prime
Just inside the walls
In the panelling confines

Sour milk and cheese
The sent of rotten meat
It’s freezing in the alley
Behind the trash pile heaps

Dwellings made of boxes
House the forgotten meek
Closed face and forbidden
As we pass them on the streets

A polite yet impaired man
Stays deep in the forest down the road
I gave him a ride from his tent
In the woods to the store
Behind his eyes he was broken
As he spoke of happy things
He asked me to come back and join him
But I had to run away