Fox In A Bush

(álbum: Timeless - 1968)

Beneath shabby clothes and bearded face was a proud man called 'Fox in a bush'
He would never accept charity from anyone, but everyday you'd see him scraps of food from the wide array of trashcans that lined the street
Then hurrying off like a fox with its prey, he'd return to a cold and musty shack where he'd lay his bed
One winter morning when on his daily tour, he fell to his knees in the winter street and before the old man met his demise
He thought to himself

Is it me behind this old and dusty face?
Was I born to lie here dying in disgrace?
There was so much in my life that's worth remembering
As the tears I shed, lie freezing on my cheek

People passing on the street
Don't hide their shame for me
I would beg for the lend of a hand
If I only could speak
Please god don't turn away, I'm so afraid
A shaggy cloaked vagabond, your own castaway
When I'm gone, there'll be no-one
To weep or mourn for me

Now it's time, for this old man
To close his eyes