I saw a man on the street he was
Of a sorrowed face,
Glum on what walked on by.
I spoke,
"Why do you sit there in your suit"
"He spoke"
"Got any spare faith"
"Spare some prayer"
I'm down on my luck, my suit once
White, now tarnished by the many
Names I have.
"A word is powerful"
"Religion was my gift"
"Now its my curse"
I must admit no offense, but I am of those
Of no religious consequence, I believe
In the seen not of what......
"This is my pain"
"This is why I ask for some spirit"
As he drinks back from a brown paper bag,
"Its not what you think"
"Holy water to keep my spirit up"
"OK"
"That's what they call it these days"
Look I know your lost, not finding your place
In this world, you had a good run, but we
Have graduated moved on.
"My words are used wrongly"
"Its not their spirit breaking"
"Mine is faltering as well"
"Look I know the doubt you have"
"But were not children anymore"
I point to the heavens, look up there, we're
No longer in the crib, we grew and were
Moving further out, those that believe,
You still have. But as time moves forward
Ourselves we will have faith in not
A past tense book that split us up.
"Peace be with you old man on the street"
"I haven't got a prayer"
"But a few coins for food of thought"
And I left him, looking back as him
I saw him palms joined together,
Hearing these words spoken out.
"Got any spare faith"
**"Spare some prayer"
