We Stare At Our Feet
He sits and wonders why he's here
As his tears flow into his beer
Deep inside where the pain is kept
His whole life he has felt so lost
Wrong decisions horrible cost
Hurt remains even though he's wept
Soon the beer is gone time to go
He is now living on Skid Row
A phantom walking on the street
Trying to gather quarters and dimes
Perhaps this time pleasures of wine
Depending on people he meets
Pattern repeated every day
So sad but still living this way
No more dreaming of an escape
He thinks the bottle is his friend
Even if not he will pretend
He drinks so pain will lose it's shape
No one see's the invisible man
We fail to do the best that we can
We leave him to suffer on the street
We think we're doing good when we just pray
Nothing gets done by thinking this way
Still we walk by and stare at our feet
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