Full hands and empty hearts. The first stay first, so the last play their parts
But the poor are treasures in this world
Riches are worthless just like words with no progress
Bright headlights. Retreating crimson dim
I knew my place, but I see his face. Where do we fit in?
Next to the man who pleas with cardboard and pen?
I'll flick a coin to release my guilt
Cause I don't want to think of him again
Barefoot on barbed wire through this brick wall of selfish desire
But I've got hope for this dark world. I've got hope for this dark world
Every one of us has our hat in our hands
We are "catching breaks," we are catching change
We're beggars, some thieves. Some take, all receive
Contentment and hearts start to lift when we see life is a gift