He asked me for money
I gave him a smile
Ever since
we've exchanged greetings

He seems to live off
alcohol, tobacco,
coffee and music
and sleeping on the street

A small tribe
pushing through the shifting sands
late at night
tired and struggling

but a look at their faces
our family is together
taking a look at the beach
at night

He gives so much
maybe one day
he'll wake up dead
impossible, I know

He gives to himself
he gives to us
is there a difference?
can't understand happiness

I don't know his name
so I call him Jack
crazy old fool
that I am