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
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