Does anyone know the title/author of this:
On the streets of new york there sits a man
Lonely, poor, needing a hand
Many days spent watching folks pass by
People don't harass him, but they sure don't say hi
He slouches his old coat weighing him down
Holding his empty cup with a big pale frown
Dreaming of the day he once had it all
Its a shame that his life took a great fall
And invisible he remains all day on the streets
This man once with a house and wife, three kids at his feet
Thinking to himself if it would ever once be the same
Finally he knows...life is no game
Until the day comes he sadly dies
He stays on the streets, and there he lies