Little Black Box

Hey there, Mr. Blind Man
What's the matter cant you see the world
Sespool puddling in the streets
Why so polite with everyone he meets
Dont you understand

No body here to help you out
Make cute faces, but you'd never know
Or maybe so, you just kiss them on the head
Such a pretty red glow

Darkness keeps the wheels a'turnin
In his heart there's a fire burnin
Around the world he loves to roam
In his little black box where nobody's home

-short instrumental-

Oh, man, you dont have to go
Stay here and they might just leave you alone
Say what, you dont want to leave
Cause you never get back the time your home has stole

The hands of God on his pivoting wrists
A soapy sponge in his miracle fists
His hands scrubbing, drumming, working wild
As he wash the filthy feet of an Asian child

With the company
Of poverty
What a tragedy
Such a rubbery

Darkness keep the wheels on turning
In his heart a fire keeps burning
Around the world he continues to roam
In his little black box where nobody's home


Hammer in his hand
Bloodsweat working in the desert sand
He sings in the midday sun
He will not stop til work is done

He refuses to stop
Til work is done
And he will not say
The devil's won