I have lived on the streets, they don't talk or think the same
In order to survive, communication is a must
Since most of them are on drugs of some kind, their thinking is a wreck
Most are begging , but not for something to eat, looking a shame
There is not one of them you can trust
In my Festus way of talking and twisted way of thinking, thought what the heck
It is a known fact that a drug addict does not like to eat
It would mess up their high, Heaven forbid
They are there to beg for drug money
Want everyone to feel sorry for them and how they live on the street
And who are they trying to kid
It is all a put on and a lot of baloney
They come prepared thinking you will preach them a sermon
So I did a little reverse on that thinking one day
Before he had time to start, I said, "You are not fooling me"
"You are one of those old crazy Christian, come on"
"Supposed to be fasting, but you are back sliding, you will pay"
"And undercover Christian snitch, probably turn me into the padre"
"Standing at McDonald's, oh get back to your diet"
As the two of them had total shock on their face
I knew it chilled them to the bone
You could hear a pin drop, it got real quiet
"This old man is crazy, let's get out of this place"
I ate my hamburger and they left me alone