Seek shelter Away from the Helter Skelter Of my mind Too often unkind Meeting strangers Asking for money My pride is my badge It’s just for tea Not for drugs Do you think I am a mug? My cup does not runneth over Am not in possession Of a four-leaf clover The luck of the Irish My arse My luck is a cardboard box And food that is scarce I don’t belong In a world that does not care That cannot distinguish My pavement body On the footpath Do the math Two euro to feed me Don’t heed me Look away Consider Am I worth? Two euro Or shall I wither?
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