LIVING LIKE THIS

By the shop door he rests his weary head
How he wishes for a most comfy bed 
Nothing has he eaten throughout the day
No good luck or fortune has come his way

His clothes on his back are tattered and torn
The shoes on his feet are whethered and worn
People take pity on him as they pass him by
Enough to make the most hardy soul weep and cry

Tomorrow will be another day for this poor man 
I'm sure he will get through it the best way he can
This man could be a father, a husband or a son
Living like this is hardly joyous and fun