What An Old Man

By the road he sat With his eyes down the path Life to him was Sitting by the road every day Sipping on his gin Smoke some weed Then hit the bank to get his pension money Just to get some more gin Some more weed Turning his mouth into a kitchen And his nose into a chimney What a hobby! Doing the same thing over and over again Day in day out, 24/7 Then the storms came And stole his roof At night while he was sleeping The rains poured down so hard And took sleep from his eyes And rendered him homeless Now i see him no more But i do remember the old man by the road