From deep with in I heard
sweetly dancing around
my ears like silk, reminded
me of the taste of mothers milk.
Still in the night it blew
guitar woman sing on in the quite
where nobody knew
her number, the people slumber.
While desperation's begging in the
blackness of empty spaces.
Trash cans hold his feeble
knees like braces.
I see a man unlike other men
tattered shoes but no laces.
Holding a dented cup.
I tried to look, to see
into his eyes and beheld he was faceless.
America's traceless society
was standing among piety, where
ignorance knew him not.
His mouth slightly opened but you
could hear him clearly as Jenna sang,
her voice like a harp as her feelings rang out
does anybody have some change.
I wanted to shout!
"A dime, a nickel or a quarter
It's cold and he needs a cup-a-hot-water"
Because that's all change
can bring to a man poor.
nothing more, for he's
depending on the strange who
can afford their water colored, and
fragranced at Starbucks. While his
Chuck's are worn with no Star or Taylors
back in the day he was proud
to be a sailor but now all he has is
a song by Jenna, tatoo from henna and
the Lord's Prayer with no hair.
Wait a minute,
I've got some change.
Enough to remove the henna, restore
what's lost...change the loser to a winner.
Yeah, I've got some change but keep
singing Jenna. Keep singing Jenna.