Crust of Bread

A crust, a crust of bread
Give it away
To the man who sits in here all day

It's hard, it's difficult
To get in his head
There are shields and doors
And guard gates in the way

For sleeping outside
Is not merely child's play
In your wildest dreams
Can you picture the strain

No walls, no ceilings
Trying to stay awake
So no one is able to make off with your things

And the library by day
Is the only place to be
There is a bathroom and a sink
To wash your clothes

I found him bubbling out front
So wish away
Find out that this is the way the day goes
He is walking down the street
Blind to every eye he meets

A crust, a crust of bread
Give it away

A crust, a crust of bread
Give it away