sailor jack ‘n’ georgie

sleepin in the church

semi-outta work but tonight

they’ll get by

all the way from youngstown

georgie thumbed a ride

woke up from a dream to these lights

sailor plays the subways

songs about the sea

sailin on the high seas of rum

cause there aint no place in paradise

for the rogues of the urban wars

and we all live and die by the sword

caught up in a street brawl

georgie stops a knife

saves his scrawny friend from a fall

it was a good thing

never one for praises

he just shrugs it off

“we could die tomorrow,” he scoffs

times they talk of leavin

dream of goin home

but only when the bottle runs dry

when there aint no justice anywhere

then there aint no just rewards

and we all live and die by the sword

there’s a shelter down on seventeenth

with a free meal in the yard

there’s a park bench out in union square

when the sidewalk gets too hard

and the reverend is so gracious

as he smiles and offers work

to this pair of ragged refugees

sleepin in the church.