|  o n l y  o n e  c e n t  |

was sitting in a café in a nice ambient
deepened in the wallstreet-news
watching all the people crossing a tramp
who hummed his kind of blues

a rich man came, was just to pass
nice shoes, expensive coat
must be a millionaire or from the upper class
heard the poor man sang by rote

only a cent, a word or a smile
will keep me alive for a while
just a glimpse of your eyes would be ok.
to ask for more is not my way


the millionaire changed some words with him
took his purse, a note he spent
i wondered myself how much it was
will he reach the 10 percent?

how easily could such a rich man
pay him food and rent
if i'd be him, i'd do what i can
so i shook my head and went.

only a cent, a word or a smile
will keep me alive for a while
just a glimpse of your eyes would be ok.
to ask for more is not my way

© 20031 · samwinski