Drunkard

His coat was torn and tattered, his face was full of red

And nothing seemed to matter, as he put himself to bed

And he didn't know the meaning of it allHe wasn't home that evening when his daughter came to call

And he didn't see the message that she left upon the wall

And he didn't know the meaning of it allHe looked into the streetlamps, all shinning in the rain

And he thought of all the faces that he'd never see againAnd he didn't know the meaning of it all

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