See that man there on the corner He can call his life his own Dressed in rags and eyes so empty He's like a statue made of stone Yet, he chose this way of living Another life that God had planned And each day he's sinking lower With that bottle in his hand Do you ever stop to wonder Have you really seen this man Or do you see just another bum With a bottle in his hand? Yes, he sleeps in dingy alleys But great love this man has known And each time our baby calls for him It cuts me to the bone He was once so proud and worthy Of a love at his command But he lost it all forever For that bottle in his hand If you ask me, yes, I love him But I just can't understand But you help me find the answer To that bottle in his hands...