The Streets by Dharmabum

Dharmabum's Comments:  Say A Prayer For Dirty by MichaelAnthony got me thinking about something that happened to me some years ago.   It happened in the summer of ' 87.  I was walking the streets of Philadelphia one afternoon.  I saw a man foraging through the trashcans that were lining the streets.  Covered in filth, long greasy hair, wearing an old tattered US army jacket.  Filling his pockets with the treasures he was extracting from those wire mesh containers.  When I caught a glimpse into this mans eyes, I could see that he had been "shifted" off course.  Maybe not that far from the course that most of us follow.  But far enough that he was forced to live in "his world".   I went into a nearby deli & bought a sandwich & a cup of coffee.  I carefully placed the bag with it's contents into one of the trashcans a little further down the street.   As I walked on, I realized the only selfless act I could truly perform would be to offer this man the respect & dignity of not turning around & watching him find what I had left for him.   I never spoke a word to him, nor he to I.  I don't know his story.  This song came from that experience.  I wrote it two years later.

The Streets by Ron Horvath, 1989

I am a man, who's face is weathered,
From many winter days gone by,
I live on streets that have no conscience,
With other souls who cannot fly.

I fought for freedom, in the jungles,
For god & country, in the pouring rain,
I wore my medals on my chest,
I wear my shrapnel in my brain.

My demon's real, though you can't see them,
They scream at night, though you can't hear,
They steal your soul, they break your spirit,
Their names are Ignorance & Fear.

{Chorus}
Cast your eyes down as you walk past me.
Just make believe that I'm not there,
Walk down these streets that have no conscience,
Streets paved with ignorance & fear.

I had a wife, I can't remember,
I had a home, or so they say,
The memories have gotten faded,
The black & white's all become grey.

This cardboard castle is my home now,
Your throwaways, my treasure bin,
All I ask is you don't judge me,
Until you wear these shoes I'm in.

{chorus}

Cast your eyes down as you walk past me,
Just make believe that I'm not there,
Walk down these streets that have no conscience,
Streets paved with ignorance & fear.

So Jesus Christ come be my savior,
I'll drink your wine I'll eat your bread,
I'll live my life out in this jungle,
And you can save me when I'm dead.

{chorus}

© Ron Horvath, 1989