To him the world was cold,

It was ice white buildings taller than the eye,

With pavements made of asphalt

And people who would lie.

.

But no he, no

For he sits with the pigeons and he rattles a cup,

He's begging for you money,

He's begging for your love.

.

Snubbed out cigarette butts,

Line the way to his bed,

He counts his every blessing,

And each time he's been misled.

.

One day you will see him,

Hidden by the road,

The next day you are passing,

The pigeons will be alone.