Time now an empty shell Memories in the broken glass The daily journey to despair Where luck's poured out till nothing's left And she wants to run away Away from the light And the rain falls and the night calls In the shadows we've all passed Life like an empty book With pictures that fade and die Tears in a bottle of dreams Schemes that never last He wants to runaway, away from the lies And the rain falls and the night calls In the shadows we've all passed Hope in an empty box Reality in a paper cup Empty in a hungry world Did they fall or did we push? And they want to run away Away from the fight And the rain falls and the night calls In the shadows we've all passed Rain falls and the night calls In the shadows we've all passed Spoken by the homeless man: "I start about half eight in the morning, right, I do a bit of begging, like, till about nine at night-time." "There's only one problem with the police - they keep moving me on." "It's hard to make friends these days, they tell me." "I was in Stockport, once, right, begging, and I was kicked in the face." "I know I look a bit dirty and scruffy and so on." "I haven't had a bath now for two weeks - bad news, isn't it? I don't smell, do I?" "All right, you've got to have a joke, sometimes." "I haven't slept for two nights, now." "The last two places where I stopped, the kids burned it down." "They poured petrol on a homeless guy - they set him alight." "Why can't he go out and get a job?" Behind every tatty sleeping bag and cardboard box there is a human being with a family, a history and a personality
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