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revonah23

Homeless theme

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Hi Revonah, Welcome to Songfacts :thumbsup:

how about "Another Day in Paradise" by Phil Collins?

or some not so obvious choices:

"Gypsy Woman" by Crystal Waters

she's just like you and me

but she's homeless

she's homeless

and she stands there singing for money

la da dee la doo dow, la da dee la do dow...

or "What it's Like" by Everlast

We've all seen the man at the liquor store beggin' for your change

The hair on his face is dirty, dreadlocked and full of mange

He ask the man for what he could spare with shame in his eyes

"Get a job you f*ckin' slob" 's all he replied

God forbid you ever had to walk a mile in his shoes

'Cause then you really might know what it's like to sing the blues

Then you really might know what it's like...

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King of the Road - Roger Miller

Trailer for sale or rent

Rooms to let...fifty cents.

No phone, no pool, no pets

I ain't got no cigarettes

Ah, but..two hours of pushin' broom

Buys an eight by twelve four-bit room

I'm a man of means by no means

King of the road.

Third boxcar, midnight train

Destination...Bangor, Maine.

Old worn out clothes and shoes,

I don't pay no union dues,

I smoke old stogies I have found

Short, but not too big around

I'm a man of means by no means

King of the road.

I know every engineer on every train

All of their children, and all of their names

And every handout in every town

And every lock that ain't locked

When no one's around.

I sing,

Trailers for sale or rent

Rooms to let, fifty cents

No phone, no pool, no pets

I ain't got no cigarettes

Ah, but, two hours of pushin' broom

Buys an eight by twelve four-bit room

I'm a man of means by no means

King of the road.

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Something In The Way ~ Nirvana

Underneath the bridge

The tarp has sprung a leak

And the animals I've trapped

Have all become my pets

And I'm living off of grass

And the drippings from the ceiling

It's okay to eat fish

'Cause they don't have any feelings

(x2)

Something in the way, mmm

Something in the way, yeah, mmm

Underneath the bridge

The tarp has sprung a leak

And the animals I've trapped

Have all become my pets

And I'm living off of grass

And the drippings from the ceiling

It's okay to eat fish

'Cause they don't have any feelings

(x4)

Something in the way, mmm

Something in the way, yeah, mmm

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This was always one of my favorite songs:

Rainy Night in Georgia-Brook Benton

Hoverin' by my suitcase, tryin' to find a warm place to spend the night

Heavy rain fallin', seems I hear your voice callin' "It's all right."

A rainy night in Georgia, a rainy night in Georgia

It seems like it's rainin' all over the world

I feel like it's rainin' all over the world

Neon signs a-flashin', taxi cabs and buses passin' through the night

A distant moanin' of a train seems to play a sad refrain to the night

A rainy night in Georgia, such a rainy night in Georgia

Lord, I believe it's rainin' all over the world

I feel like it's rainin' all over the world

How many times I wondered

It still comes out the same

No matter how you look at it or think of it

It's life and you just got to play the game

I find me a place in a box car, so I take my guitar to pass some time

Late at night when it's hard to rest I hold your picture to my chest and I feel fine

But it's a rainy night in Georgia, baby, it's a rainy night in Georgia I

feel it's rainin' all over the world, kinda lonely now And it's rainin' all over the

world

Oh, have you ever been lonely, people?

And you feel that it was rainin' all over this man's world

You're talking 'bout rainin', rainin', rainin', rainin', rainin', rainin', rainin',

rainin', rainin' rainin', rainin', rainin'

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Like A Rolling Stone ~ Mr Bob Dylan :bow: :bow: :bow:

Once upon a time you dressed so fine

You threw the bums a dime in your prime, didn't you?

People'd call, say, "beware doll, you're bound to fall"

You thought they were all kiddin' you

You used to laugh about

Everybody that was hangin' out

Now you don't talk so loud

Now you don't seem so proud

About having to be scrounging for your next meal.

How does it feel

How does it feel

To be without a home

Like a complete unknown

Like a rolling stone?

You've gone to the finest school alright, miss lonely

But you know you only used to get juiced in it

And nobody has ever taught you how to live on the street

And now you find out you're gonna have to get used to it

You said you'd never compromise

With the mystery tramp but now you realise

He's not selling any alibis

As you stare into the vacuum of his eyes

And say do you want to make a deal?

How does it feel

How does it feel

To be on your own

With no direction home

Like a complete unknown

Like a rolling stone?

You never turned around to see the frowns on the jugglers and the clowns

When they all did tricks for you

You never understood that it ain't no good

You shouldn't let other people get your kicks for you

You used to ride on a chrome horse with your diplomat

Who carried on his shoulder a siamese cat

Ain't it hard when you discover that

He really wasn't where it's at

After he took from you everything he could steal

How does it feel

How does it fee

To be on your own

With no direction home

Like a complete unknown

Like a rolling stone?

Princess on the steeple and all the pretty people

They're drinkin', thinkin' that they got it made

Exchanging all kinds of precious gifts and things

But you'd better take your diamond ring, you'd better pawn it babe

You used to be so amused

At Napoleon in rags and the language that he used

Go to him now, he calls you, you can't refuse

When you ain't got nothing, you got nothing to lose

You're invisible now, you got no secrets to conceal

How does it feel

How does it feel

To be on your own

With no direction home

Like a complete unknown

Like a rolling stone

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Arrested Development

Mr. Wendal

Here, have a dollar,

in fact no brotherman here, have two

Two dollars means a snack for me,

but it means a big deal to you

Be strong, serve God only,

know that if you do, beautiful heaven awaits

That's the poem I wrote for the first time

I saw a man with no clothes, no money, no plate

Mr.Wendal, that's his name,

no one ever knew his name cause he's a no-one

Never thought twice about spending on a ol' bum,

until I had the chance to really get to know one

Now that I know him, to give him money isn't charity

He gives me some knowledge, I buy him some shoes

And to think blacks spend all that money on big colleges,

still most of y'all come out confused

[CHORUS:] Go ahead, Mr.Wendal (2x)

Mr.Wendal has freedom,

a free that you and I think is dumb

Free to be without the worries of a quick to diss society

for Mr.Wendal's a bum

His only worries are sickness

and an occasional harassment by the police and their chase

Uncivilized we call him,

but I just saw him eat off the food we waste

Civilization, are we really civilized, yes or no ?

Who are we to judge ?

When thousands of innocent men could be brutally enslaved

and killed over a racist grudge

Mr.Wendal has tried to warn us about our ways

but we don't hear him talk

Is it his fault when we've gone too far,

and we got too far, cause on him we walk

Mr.Wendal, a man, a human in flesh,

but not by law

I feed you dignity to stand with pride,

realize that all in all you stand tall

Mr.Wendal, yeah yeah yeah, Lord, Mr.Wendal

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Hi i work for YMCA as a creativity project worker. and over the last few months i have been helping a small group i work with. to create their own songs about their lives and being homeless. one song is now complete once i have copied it to my computer i could email you a copy if you are interested. it is written by three of our residents with help from my self their ages are 17, 18, and 53. and the song works rather well considering none of them new what the other was writing about

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Aqualung by Jethro Tull

Sitting on a park bench

eyeing little girls with bad intent.

Snot is running down his nose

greasy fingers smearing shabby clothes.

Drying in the cold sun

Watching as the frilly panties run.

Feeling like a dead duck

spitting out pieces of his broken luck.

Sun streaking cold

an old man wandering lonely.

Taking time

the only way he knows.

Leg hurting bad,

as he bends to pick a dog-end

he goes down to the bog

and warms his feet.

Feeling alone

the army's up the road

salvation a' la mode and

a cup of tea.

Aqualung my friend

don't start away uneasy

you poor old sod, you see, it's only me.

Do you still remember

December's foggy freeze

when the ice that

clings on to your beard was

screaming agony.

And you snatch your rattling last breaths

with deep-sea-diver sounds,

and the flowers bloom like

madness in the spring.

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