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