An accommodating beggar

I live in a cardboard box
On my hands and knees,
It isn’t much; but I’m, easily, pleased.
Pay a denomination,
If it pleases, you!
Have some faith,
Have some mercy,
For my hungry, humbling, salvation; sir!
And I’ll pray, and I’ll weep; for you!

I’ll live in the hope of a bed
A bed of straw
A manger or a whole lot more!
It isn’t easy, and I can, see
You aren’t amused, with me!
But I’m a beggar, and I’m going, blind:
Won’t anyone take pity?
Won’t someone?
Won’t some of you? Be kind?
To me!

Because I’m living in a gutter
I’m melting away--like, lardy, green-butter
And I didn’t atoll to any good, school.
My father he was a poor man’s butcher
He liked to tenderize my soul
Till he broke both the skin and the bone
Till I’d howl like a mule
Till I got a whole much, older
So, you see; why I soon left, home.

Won’t anyone take pity?
Won’t someone?
Won’t some of you? Be kind?
I’m only a beggar; a vagabond,
In a big city pond:

I’m just an accommodating beggar
Who likes the wind and rain?
Who likes the thunder and the lightening?
Who likes all you people, glowing with fame?
But I’m just an accommodating beggar
I don’t even recall my own name.
It might have of been, Peter
It even might have been, Paul
But I haven’t got a dickybird
Clue; who I am, anymore...
Not since the liquor...
And the insanity of it all
-came to call...

I’m just a beggar on a broken crutch,
Pissing-up a prison wall on a hunch
That maybe I’m just, too” pensive”
Maybe I’m just too” easily scrutinized”
And that’s why I’m starving,
And now staring into your hollow deadpan “eyes”

Whilst these carrion beasts of insanity
Still do their surgery
On my kitchen soup empty bowl of a mind,
Oh I’m so vulnerable
Won’t anyone take pity?
Won’t someone?
Won’t some of you? Be kind?

Cause I’m just an accommodating beggar
Take your choice what ails me sir!
But pay a denomination,
For my starving, salvation
Just give it up free
Be kind, lady dollar bill
Take pity on me
I may not be here very long
In this big old city, pond: