Tin cans and alleyways
See the days I walk through
Old men along the street
Empty walls and yellow sheets
are the only things that I talk to
Where will I go
What will I do
Who will I know
Does it really make a difference anyway
I guess I'll search around
Until I find a quiet town
A little town where maybe
I can put me down to stay
All I want to do is be where
some warm body knows my name
Well I don't have loving
And I don't need money
I never looked for too much from living
Gone lots of places
Seen lots of faces
And accepted what kindly
been given me, honey
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