Home - The Hotknives

He takes a look back as he closes the door

Forty five bills piled up high on the floor

He’s made his decision, he’s leaving today

Spend the rest of his life living some other way

And as the time passed by he hadn’t washed in years

And when it rained it only washed away the tears

He wants to move out of the street

He wants to work not beg to eat

He wants some privacy alone

He wants a place to call his home

He wants to move out of the street

He wants to work not beg to eat

He wants some privacy alone

He wants a place to call his home

He stands in the doorway as he’s begging for change

People cross over 'cause they think that he’s strange

Twenty four years of living out of a bin

Surrounded by people but he’s lonely within

And when a policeman comes to move him on his way

Newspaper calling cries are all you hear him say

He wants to move out of the street

He wants to work not beg to eat

He wants some privacy alone

He wants a place to call his home

He wants to move out of the street

He wants to work not beg to eat

He wants some privacy alone

He wants a place to call his home

It’s starting to rain and he’s feeling the cold

His spirit is weary and his flesh is so old

He’s looking for shelter right under the Pier

A choice between dying and a night filled with fear

And when he sleeps he doesn’t dream about his life

He dreams of cardboard 'Queens' and one would be his wife

He wants to move out of the street

He wants to work not beg to eat

He wants some privacy alone

He wants a place to call his home

He wants to move out of the street

He wants to work not beg to eat

He wants some privacy alone

He wants a place to call his home