Crawled out of the bushes early morn,
Used newspapers to keep me warm,
Then I'd have to score a drink
calm my nerves help me to think,
Down city streets I would roam,
I had no bed I had no home,
There was nothing that I owned,
I used my fingers as a comb,
In those days when I was young
drinking and fighting was no fun,
It was daily living for me
I had no choice it was meant to be,
Down city streets I would roam,
I had no bed I had no home,
There was nothing that I owned,
I used my fingers as a comb,
Now I'm a man I'm not alone,
I am married, I have children of my own,
Now I have something to call my own
These are my children this is my home,
I look around and understand how
Street kids feel when they're put down.
Down city streets, I would roam
I had no bed, I had no home
There was nothing that I owned
Used my fingers as a comb
I look around and understand
How street kids feel when they're put down
