As I was walking down the street,
A homeless man I did meet.
He had an unsteady gait,
I asked how he got in this state
He seemed a truthful fellow.
When he said "The curbstone is my pillow,
The gutter is my cold hard bed.
I have no place to lay my head."
"I had a good home and had a good family,
They all loved and had high hopes for me.
I started using drugs with my peers,
My life has been ruined all these years.
Friends have died of drugs or HIV;
I thought it couldn't happen to me
I was much to strong . . . .
They've been gone so long.
I was really weak, life is really bleak.
I'm playing out a losing streak.
If you want to know why I'm dying take a pick,
Smoking, sniffing, snorting and needle stick.
Tell the youth don't break their families' heart,
When offered drugs refuse
and don't ever start.
Curbstone Is My Pillow
