Early Morning Fog.

Through the early morning fog.
I walk with my best friend my pet dog.
We walk through streets of peppled stones.
Where down and outs lie there frail bodies just skin and bones.
I give them money and say good luck .
They say to me, hey man life does suck.
I say I'm sorry and walk on by.
My green eyes did start to cry.
Through the early morning fog.
I stroke my best friend my pet dog.
The morning weather bone deep cold.
Around my neck a wool scarf i have rolled.
The roads quiet there is no cars.
The down and outs drink cheap home made whiskey out of diseased jars.
All around me cold and damp.
I see a  policeman doing his rounds carrying a bright light lamp.
Through the early morning fog.
I head home to feed myself and my best friend my pet dog.