| When dawn arrives |
| He hums tonight through his streets My unlatched window the tune repeats The kerb-crawling car winds down to a stop A few seconds mumble then whisks him off. Sick and tired of abuse, Controlled signs of hysteria, But like when dawn arrives, He remembers his leisure. He runs tonight through his block, A crack in the curtain is unlocked No meeting with a mother or greeting a friend, A sharp-looking boot-jack with some time to spend. Sick and tired of abuse, Controlled signs of hysteria, But like when dawn arrives, He remembers his leisure. He cries tonight Through his manner I can see his conscience Get the better From a doorway stepped in shadowed leather Exchanging handshakes for money and pleasure He crawls tonight though his scum, From my dirty window his bodies numb, Beneath the streetlamps tilt shoulders bent Then meets his pick up who pays his rent. Sick and tired of abuse, Controlled signs of hysteria, But like when dawn arrives, He remembers his leisure. His pleasure |