Wagoner Porter

The clatter of the garbage cans in the dark and lonely alley

Searching for a bottle with a drop or two of wine

The wino makes his rounds from garbage cans to gutter

Running like a wild man to every bottle that he finds

The wine makes him happy for a little while but this world of fantasy don't last long

Then his frail lonely body seeks refuge but he's lost in a world of his own

What would cause a man to give up everything life has to offer

And end up with no family no home no nothing

Sleeping on the ground in some fifty alley

Holding tight in his hand an empty wine bottle

In his eyes a look of sadness as though he's just seen the gates of hell

Could it be that he's loved and lost or could it be that he was lost and unloved

Whatever it might be it's a pitiful sight to see a man knows only as a wino