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Like a fly batters itself against a window |
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Time and again and again it senselessly blunders |
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Up and down the length of west broadway |
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The bag lady wanders |
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Fifty cents rent goes pretty far |
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When you live in a subway car |
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One stop's the same as another |
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Even son of sam sees her sleeping, |
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She's not worth the bother |
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Sorrow, do they ever want to cry |
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Do they see us pass by |
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Where do they come from (simple answers) |
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Do they come falling, |
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Falling from the sky like rain |
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Crawling up the basement drain |
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Misfits and black sheep |
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Former brothers, friends of mothers |
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There is no yesterday, there is no tomorrow |
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There is only now and that hardly matters |
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No one cares about sad old ladies |
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With bags full of tatters |
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One day it gets a bit too cold |
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Maybe a little too wet, maybe a little too lonely |
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Lifelessly she lies amidst her bag world |
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But maybe she's only sleeping |
