There was something about you
Like a house with an open door
A window with a vision
A room with a burning fire
Therefore my desire
Can a man like me enter?
Cold from winter's chill
No offering of rent
Just my weary worn out
Labour I'll give witout doubt
You took me in
Gave me a meal
And showed me the value
Of eating with knife and fork
It's a pity I'm not a dork
I'm incapable really
I eat with my hands
And wipe my hands
On my sweater
You deserve better
So I left
May 11, 2016
May 11, 2016 at 11:51 AM UTC
There was something about you
Like a house with an open door
A window with a vision
A room with a burning fire
Therefore my desire
Can a man like me enter?
Cold from winter's chill
No offering of rent
Just my weary worn out
Labour I'll give witout doubt
You took me in
Gave me a meal
And showed me the value
Of eating with knife and fork
It's a pity I'm not a dork
I'm incapable really
I eat with my hands
And wipe my hands
On my sweater
You deserve better
So I left
