Maeby

Maybe I'm naive,
Maybe I'm just not fucking smart.
Maybe I can't see just who these people really are.
Or maybe I don't care.
Maybe they're no worse than me.
Maybe some day, that's where I'll be.
Tired and broken on the street,
Asking for change so I can eat,
Or get fucked up, but wouldn't you?
What the fuck else is there to do?

Maybe I am blind,
And feeding the addictions of the poor.
Maybe I don't mind just what they use my money for.
I hope they're getting fed,
Or whatever it is they need.
Really, it isn't up to me,
To make decisions for anyone,
I happen by on the street.
Suit, shorts, sleeping bag or hoodie,
I don't know the whole story.

Can you honestly say that circumstances never change?

Some alcoholics live in mansions,
Some drug addicts are movie stars.
Some of the worst cunts you could imagine,
Are politicians living large,
Off money you have made,
And that they exploit you for.

Do you really have any more,
Of a right to judge the poor,
Than I do you? Or you do Me?
We aren't just all that we can see.
There's so much more that we can be,
Than privilege, status or money.