Over there

In the cold

Stands the Hustler

His eyes are old

He has seen a million ugly scenes

Places where men droop with mould

The backrooms

Where soiled goods are sold

Seen with opened eyes since frail fifteen

He has found it hard at first

But on his brow there sits a curse

For when the young must suffer

At the hands of men



Memories of Christmas past

Were never there to ever last

Things as were can never

Be again



Over there

By the wall

Stands the Hustler

He's not very tall

He's trampled by the jaded by the sly



He's seen the darker side of men

First fascinated and then

He found his urge to laugh

An urge to cry



He'll find close friends

No friend at all

He feels so lonely, tired and small

How few are chosen from

The golden call



There's something in us all it seems

To crave adventure

Hunt for dreams

But corruption the seducer spoils our schemes

And surely as the snow will melt

The Hustler

Grabs his soul and heads for home

With lessons learnt under his belt



Over there

By the wall

Stands the Hustler

With the men of law

On either side to flank the sallow youth

But some of us will never learn

It takes the blow of fists to burn

How painfully we suffer for the truth