The Ballad of the Gutter Man

On cobblestones rancid
And underbridge passes
The troubled man dances in gutters alone.

Like the gum-gullied ridges
Of paving stone saviours
The gutter man dances in troubles his own

And clutching a cup with a hand full of blisters
The troubled man whispers for pockets of coins,
But the pockets don’t fund what the pining man pines for;
Amphetamine tapestries sewn on his door.

Bloodshooting blinding
He’s looking for Jesus
To leather his jacket
And polish his soul

But finding no finding
He finally sees us
And though a rough diamond,
He settles for coal.