Poor Danny boy he wears a frown,

Hangs his head real low down to the ground,

Danny’s world has been turned right upside down,

Been let down, ripped off, kicked around,

Danny’s mouth barely makes that begging sound,

Most people walk by, some look round,

Spilt milk turns sour in Danny’s cup,

Sits in the doorway with a smoker’s cough,

He’s never been well-known to lady luck,

Those poisoned veins can’t get him high enough,

That parasite will bleed him right enough,

He’s high and dry and not too tough,

Danny has no place to stay tonight,

There’s always someone drunk looking for a fight,

And Danny never walked so slow,

Among the shadows and the ghosts,

His shoes all worn through his jacket torn,

It doesn’t look to be all that warm,

I wonder if Danny has a light,

At the end of his tunnel, at any time,

Or a tunnel at the end of his life,

No place of shelter, you know it isn’t right,

Danny takes a drink of a cup of coffee,

That someone bought him from the nearby café,

It’s near the bus stops above the subway,

Same place I saw Joy every other Saturday,

But he couldn’t afford to sit at the table,

I know he’d be in there if he was able,

His hands in fingerless gloves clutch the plastic mug,

And Danny’s grateful as a thirsty dog,

He’s never been down and out before,

Living in the gutter, though he has been poor,

I wonder if he’ll last another night,

Looks like a rabbit in the headlights,

I wonder if Danny has a light,

At the end of his tunnel tonight

Or a tunnel at the end of his life. -Hayley




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