I look at their feet when I’m sat on the street.
My cardboard cushion easing the pain,
Of sitting, legs crossed, eyes down, no frown.
Down at the ankles of those walking past
As I sit and wait for that tinkling plate
No looking up, no looking in, don’t let the person see you grin
No bingo game this – eyes down, line and house
My line costs ten quid, and no house in sight
But now it’s quiet, so slyly just check
Enough on the blanket to stop feeling wrecked?
New feet arrive; nice polished brogues
And next to his leather, high heels with bare toes
All brightly painted, like my hopes and dreams
Then down come the coins, and they walk on again
Bastards it’s foreign- just 100 yen!
Try changing that at my street exchange
What’s wrong with dollars, or Euros or pounds?
I’m the one sitting with my arse on the ground!
Hang on a moment, new shoes in sight
Old feet, swollen, ankles quite wide
Please rest a moment, then open that purse
Cascade your love down, onto my soul
Yet all I can hear, without looking up
Are words full of hatred, snide curses above
‘I know I’m a totally useless shit,’
But once I was innocent, sucking on tit,
Bonding with mother, not full of nits, like
My dog alongside me, which shivers – it’s rain
Time to consider; shall I increase the pain?
Look more pathetic, as hordes pass me by
Hang on a minute I’ve just got a pie!
Only half eaten, better than nowt
My dog’s bloody started, there’s crust on her snout
Oh let her have it, my time will come
Jesus it’s cold, it’s right up my bum,
My cardboard converter is less than my thumb so
Pull up the hood and cover the dog
Here comes a copper, a real PC Plod
He stands and he stares then he gives me a nod
‘Keep fucking moving you useless great sod’
That’s what I think, but I give him a grin
Cos his beat’s nearly over, and he don’t want me in
But the next one is looking for frolics and fun
‘Hello tramp, hello twat’, whilst I peering down
Look at his feet, and his boots are quite brown
Doctor by nature, Doctor Marteens,
Strapped up and ready, up to his shins, so
I move to one side as his kick’s coming in
My brain is more tricky than fixing my chin
And I’ve always liked soup through a cup and a straw
But as he fell on his arse pissed as a fart,
His boot hit my chest, and stopped my weak heart.