I Was Homeless when Homless wasn't Cool

 

Sixteen hours on the dusty, hot old road,
Thumb out, don't recall when last I rode.
Smelling like something rotten, I'm sure,
Hungry for some Greasy Spoon de jour.

I was homeless when homeless wasn't cool.

My clothes got ripped off at the Salvation Army,
That's cool, I screwed his girlfriend with glee.
Payback wasn't what I'd hoped, I felt sapped,
Three days later I came down with the clap.

I was homeless when homeless wasn't cool.

Travelin' countryside from this town to that,
Let me tell you I thought I was a real cool cat.
Doing jobs from dishwasher to bedroom stud
Some said I had ramblin' deep in my blood.

I was homeless when homeless wasn't cool.

Don't know what it was that made me roam,
I only knew that the highway was my home.
For long periods of some say, my wasted days,
I took all I could from America, it was a buffet.

I was homeless when homeless wasn't cool.

On the road with Jack wasn't like the book,
It got so bad I once took a job as a fry cook.
No government handouts for the likes of us,
People passed by, looked, spit and cussed.
I was homeless when homeless wasn't cool.

Tramps, bums and hobos, they did us rebuke,
Picked up for vagrancy, like Cool Hand Luke.
Put down, looked down, and frowned upon,
It was true, we weren't ready for upscale salons.

I was homeless when homeless wasn't cool.

I walked the streets of Greenwich Village, yes,
As Tiny Tim tiptoed through the tulips, a mess.
Rubbed shoulders with more names you'd know,
I can tell you who was and wasn't, friggin' 'ho's.

I was homeless when homeless wasn't cool.

©Jerry Pat Bolton