Drunkard

His coat was torn and tattered, his face was full of red And nothing seemed to matter, as he put himself to bed And he didn't know the meaning of it all He wasn't home that evening when his daughter came to call And he didn't see the message that she left upon the wall And he didn't know the meaning of it all He looked into the streetlamps, all shinning in the rain And he thought of all the faces that he'd never see again And he didn't know the meaning of it all