Bottles & Boxes & ten miles a day, he walks slowly making his rounds...Picking up bottles & boxes and papers, and anything else we throw down...He's hump-backed & wrinkled, but unlike Van Winkle, he doesn't sleep hi life away...And he sleeps so seldom that some of us wonder, just what the old man has to say.....Some folks laugh at him but he doesn't notice....He goes right on "bout his day.....Pickin' up bottles & boxes & papers and pieces of life thrown away......Too big and tattered are clothes he's gathered, from boxes thrown into the street....He hides from the rain under store building awnings, and stays in the shade in the heat.....Sisters & mothers & daddies & brothers, he has none as far as we know.....just bottles & boxes, they"re his Fort Knoxes...But to us they're just somethin' to throw...Some folks laugh at him but he doesn't notice, he goes right on 'bout his day.....living with bottles & boxes and papers & pieces of life thrown away.........1975 recoroded by Bobby Bare    Frank of (Toledo=Spokane)