Bottles and Boxes

(Roger Murrah) Bottles and boxes and ten miles a day He walks slowly making his rounds Picking up bottles and boxes and papers And anything else we`d throw down. He`s hump-backed and wrinkled but unlike Van Winkel He doesn`t sleep his life away And he speaks so seldom that some of us wonder Just what the old man has to say. Some folks laugh at him but he doesn`t notice He goes right on bout his day Picking up bottles and boxes and papers And pieces of life thrown away. --- Instrumental --- Too big and tattered the clothes that he`s gathered From boxes thrown into the street He hides from the rain under store building ownings And stays in a shade in the heat. Sisters and mothers and daddys and brothers He has none as far as I know Just bottles and boxes they`re his little Fort Knoxes But to us they`re just somethin` to throw. Some folks laugh at him but he doesn`t notice He goes right on bout his day Living with bottles and boxes and papers And pieces of life thrown away. --- Instrumental --- Bottles and boxes and ten miles a day He walks slowly making his rounds Picking up bottles and boxes and papers And anything else we`d throw down...