| Wino on the street. |
| Drinking a bottle of booze
|
| Ain’t got nothing to say, yeah. |
| And he don’t got much to lose
|
| Times are on his face. |
| Blisters on his brain
|
| Wonders who’s at fault. |
| Knows that he’s to blame
|
| Thinks back on his childhood and wonders the reasons why
|
| Why some men have made it rich. |
| Why some men have cried
|
| Reached out his hand, lord. |
| For a nickel or a dime
|
| Livin' every day, yeah, for one more taste of wine
|
| Wino, soon you’ve got to choose
|
| How long must you take abuse
|
| Wino, you wasn’t born to lose
|
| Sweet wine is making you a fool
|
| Wino on the street. |
| Drinking a bottle of booze
|
| Ain’t got nothing to say, yeah. |
| And he don’t got much to lose
|
| I want to help him out with his troubles and woes
|
| I guess he’s a happy young man. |
| God in heaven only knows
|
| Yonder come a man, now this I know
|
| Now you better find some place to go
|
| Yonder come a man to take you downtown
|
| He don’t want you hanging around |