Benjy Davis Project

Humble Hand

There was a poor man sleeping silently,
Newspaper wrapped around his cryin’ eyes and skinny, stomach tucked.
Can I spare a dime?
I’m saving up for another to kill this empty stomach burns (it burns it does, yea).
There was a rich man walking hurriedly,
Gucci winter wear wrapped around his Tag watch,
And fattened belly tucked.
I got spare change but why waste it on another.
An anonymous man getting funked up.

Spit on a humble hand I am ready, I am ready.
Hung from a ceiling, I am dirty, I am sweaty.

Come down the road again, humble hand held out to another.
A wind is blowing, pages sell veteran green wrapped around his cryin’ eyes and poison
blood alike.
I got a medal that I won for sayin` another.
They don’t know what it’s like to be funked up.

Spit on a humble hand I am ready, I am ready.
Hung from a ceiling fan, I am dirty, I am sweaty.

Come down the road again, humble hand held out for another.