What do the homeless carry?

A foto album
A babies pink mitten
A yellowing newspaper
With the date of their anniversary inside
A violin without any strings
A war medal from Afghanistan
A bible taken from a Methodist church
A letter from Iran
Their poems written on scraps of paper
A can with a mouse inside
The plot number of the grave of their mother
A key to a demolished building
And the only place they can really sleep
Is in themselves
A plane ticket to Dubrovnik dated 1999
Their medication that keeps them alive
Although one person gave it all away
For a can of Heinz
Then they died
And was never recognised
Its easy to die
When you have no food
And sleep deprivation
Mangles your mind
And your tummy troubles you
And you cannot cry
And all that you had
The very last shred of your humanity
Is left in a shop doorway
And swept away
And all that you can manage
Is your death
Or maybe they are so depressed
That they go to the streets to die

Where are you from?

Where are you from? Where are your people?
Where is the hearth that would welcome you?
Where have they gone? Why did they leave you?
The land of your birth, am I from there too?

I turn my eyes to the south where the sun walks across the land
I turn my eyes to the north where the stars hold my hand
I turn my eyes to the east where time is buried in the sand
I turn my eyes to the west where the red skies expand.

But nothing do I see of the world of you and me
And there’s nowhere to go, and only the past generations know.
Oh, my uprooted people, oh, homeless ones
Where will you find a season for your daughters and your sons?

The Snows Will Fall On Limehouse

The snows will fall on Limehouse
The African tramp will stare
From his clothing bundle
As if you were not there

Cold ice will enamel the East
India Dock Road
As Muslim wife with shopping
Follows husband in the cold

The night, whistling like a bell
Snaps the umbrella
To take away the footing
Of the flower seller

Burdett Road’s deserted
Cold winds freeze the mind
As drinkers leave the Lovat Arms
in hasty closing time

Through the night, beneath the wall
Sheltered in his rags
A hungry homeless stranger dies
Wrapped in a black bin bag


I Live on the Streets of Windsor

Please click on the link to see a PDF of the music.

i live on the streets of Windsor

Lyrics to I live on the streets of Windsor

I live on the streets of Windsor
But they want to take me away
And leave me in the graveyard
Where life is not so gray

I saw a band of soldiers
With a marching band
Ev’ry man there he was ready
To die fighting for his land

I’m sleeping under cardboard
I cannot get to sleep
The rollers drive right past me
They make me quietly weep

I live on the streets of Winsor
I sleep on paper and card
They’ll move me to the graveyard
Where life is not so hard