The neon haze of city lights

The tribal sound of marching feet

Cuts through the gloom on cold dark nights

The tired and homeless roam the streets

The sirens wail the engines roar

A shadowed man just glances around

A victim of life's mindless toil

Lies cold and helpless on the ground.

The window dummies silent stare

Bear witness on the nights

If they could move

What it would proved

To see them all take flight.

The neon haze of city lights

The tribal sound of marching feet

Cuts through the gloom on cold dark nights

The tired and homeless roam the streets

The walls shout loud with angry words

The people air their views

The poor can scream but no-one hears

The concrete jungle sings the blues.