| There’s a wino in a garbage can
|
| Looking for a bite
|
| There’s a lovely girl with lonely eyes
|
| Needing love tonight
|
| There’s a junkie in a pallet
|
| About to go insane
|
| Yeah, there’s more than one kind of hunger pain
|
| There’s a gambler out in Vegas
|
| Preying for an ace
|
| And a run-away from Cleveland
|
| Longing for a place
|
| Willard Scott says the crops
|
| Are thirsty for some rain
|
| Yeah, there’s more than one kind of hunger pain
|
| Tonight I feel so empty
|
| In this big old lonely bed
|
| With nothing but your memory
|
| To keep my hunger fed
|
| I’m aching for the whisper
|
| Of your lips calling my name
|
| Oh, it’s crying shame
|
| There’s an old man in a nursing home
|
| Who craves a human touch
|
| There’s a baby in an orphan home
|
| That needs one just as much
|
| There’s a world of people starving
|
| For a world of different things
|
| Oh, there’s more than one kind of hunger pain
|
| God, I feel so empty
|
| In this big old lonely bed
|
| With nothing but your memory
|
| To keep my hunger fed
|
| I’m aching for the whisper
|
| Of your lips calling my name
|
| Oh, it’s a crying shame
|
| There’s more than one kind of hunger pain
|
| Yeah, there’s more than one kind of hunger pain |