I feel the wash, close down the street

Yet Chaplin walks feet nine fifteen

And I hear them, hear them call his name

And I see him, see him turn away

They take him in, and clean him up



Well, they take him in, and strip him down

They dry his skin, and feed him wine

And I hear them, hear them call his name

And I see him, see him turn away



Asks to use the phone

Yet he lives alone, He lives alone

There's no one, no one home to phone, sits alone at home

He calls his home his own

His wife is still unknown