[Verse 1: Jaysonic]

Imagine waking up this morning, but instead of your bed

You felt a Plexiglas window pressed against your head

Sleeping at the bus stop, it's almost rush hour again

Feels like God must have damned you like your family and friends

Life on the street, just wanna keep it real and eat

But the outcome is no income 'less you choose to steal and cheat

Can't get a job without a home address

Can't afford accommodations without a steady job

Longing for the days of a soft mattress

And the times before people looked at you like a slob

When they look at you at all—half the time, you could swear

These pedestrians act like you're not even there

Eye contact makes them feel guilty and they should—it's unfair

You just want a place to stay—who needs to be a millionaire?

Panhandling sucks, but it is what it is

So why should people hassle you for handling biz?

And this is tough enough alone, but some are handling kids

Or still dealing with demons from a Vietnam bid

There's voices, people in this world with real stories to tell

And, even in the summertime, it's still a cold day in hell

[Interlude: Sample from Sullivan's Travels (1941)]

[Burrows] If you'll permit me to say so, sir, the subject is not an interesting one

The poor know all about poverty and only the morbid rich would find the topic glamorous

[John L. Sullivan] But I'm doing it for the poor

Don't you understand?

[Burrows] I doubt if they would appreciate it, sir

[John L. Sullivan] But you don't realize conditions have changed

There isn't any work, there isn't any food

These are troublous times

[Hadrian] What do you know about trouble?

[John L. Sullivan] What do I know about trouble?

[Verse 2: Comel 15]

All he really needs is a warm blanket

A drink to drink away the pain of chain events

He lost two kids to unknown illness, now the third one's sick

And can he get a break? No, his luck's cold as shit

Held his tongue and bit it, but, yet, he still cursed his worst yet

"No, Lord, this can't be fair, do I really deserve this?"

The time passed and now he's all alone

And that bed he makes his stay in is now made of stone

Went from success into a mess into that guy you walk by

And I even didn't see the deepness in his eyes

That cat's not like me, see, I just cashed my check

"Yo, can I get a dime?"—"No, dude, you didn't make it"

I pay him no respect because he looks neglected

I figured he drink booze all day and let his life be wasted

Stay inconsiderate 'cause I don't know the half

But when his story falls upon my ears, I give what I have

Nods his head and smiles real wide—eternal thanks was given

Wondered if it was for the money or because I listened

Then I realized that day that it was warm as shit

But he bought a cup of tea because of what he's feeling

[Outro: Sample from Sullivan's Travels (1941)]

[Burrows] You see, sir, rich people and theorists—who are usually rich people—think of poverty in the negative

As the lack of riches, as disease might be called a lack of health

But it isn't, sir

Poverty is not the lack of anything but a positive plague, virulent in itself, contagious as cholera

[John L. Sullivan] Well, you seem to have made quite a study of it

[Burrows] Quite unwillingly, sir

[Burrows] Will that be all, sir?

[John L. Sullivan] Thanks

[Burrows] Very good, sir