See that man there on the corner
He can call his life his own
Dressed in rags and eyes so empty
He's like a statue made of stone.

Yet he chose this way of living
Another life that God had planned
And each day he's sinking lower
With that bottle in his hand.

Do you ever stop to wonder
Have you really seen this man
Or do you see just another bum
With a bottle in his hand?

--- Instrumental ---

Yes, he sleeps in dingy alleys
But great love this man has known
And each time our baby calls for him
It cuts me to the bone.

He was once so proud and worthy
Of a love at his command
But he lost it all forever
For that bottle in his hand.

If you ask me, yes, I love him
But I just can't understand
But you help me find the answer
To that bottle in his hands...