| No sir, I’m not homeless, my home is in the street
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| I’m not some lonely person down there begging round your feet
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| Somehow we stay warm and cozy huddled in the wind
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| No sir, I’m not homeless, we just need a house to put it in
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| You see daddy lost his good job last November
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| And we were way behind on rent by then
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| Mom and dad said, «Baby, always hold your head up high
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| Yeah, and always keep your backside to the wind»
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| No sir, I’m not homeless, my home is in the street
|
| I’m not some lonely person down there begging round your feet
|
| Somehow we stay warm and cozy huddled in the wind
|
| No sir, I’m not homeless, we just need a house to put it in
|
| At first they looked just like another family down on their luck
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| Searching for shelter in a storm
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| But it was then I noticed something different
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| I think more in attitude than in appearance
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| And though it was rather cold that morning
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| As I stepped closer to their circle it seemed to radiate warmth
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| And in this little girls eyes were a light
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| And as I asked her about being homeless
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| She proudly raised her head and said it right
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| No sir, I’m not homeless, my home is in the street
|
| We’re not some lonely people down here begging round your feet
|
| Somehow we stay warm and cozy huddled in the wind
|
| No sir, I’m not homeless, we just need a house to put it in |