I saw a tramp stagger across the road.
So drunk, his feet slurred the tarmac.
Made it to the other side.
Lay down.
Guess he may have died.
There was nothing to say
Just look on;
And the air was sweet
Now that he has gone
And no soul cried.
Who was he?
A scientist, doctor?
And realising
We all become numb
Unless we lied.
