Time now an empty shell   Memories in the broken glass   The daily journey to despair   Where luck's poured out till nothing's left   And she wants to run away   Away from the light   And the rain falls and the night calls   In the shadows we've all passed      Life like an empty book   With pictures that fade and die   Tears in a bottle of dreams   Schemes that never last   He wants to runaway, away from the lies   And the rain falls and the night calls   In the shadows we've all passed      Hope in an empty box   Reality in a paper cup   Empty in a hungry world   Did they fall or did we push?   And they want to run away   Away from the fight   And the rain falls and the night calls   In the shadows we've all passed   Rain falls and the night calls   In the shadows we've all passed      Spoken by the homeless man:      "I start about half eight in the morning, right, I do a bit of begging, like, till about nine at night-time."      "There's only one problem with the police - they keep moving me on."      "It's hard to make friends these days, they tell me."      "I was in Stockport, once, right, begging, and I was kicked in the face."      "I know I look a bit dirty and scruffy and so on."      "I haven't had a bath now for two weeks - bad news, isn't it? I don't smell, do I?"      "All right, you've got to have a joke, sometimes."      "I haven't slept for two nights, now."      "The last two places where I stopped, the kids burned it down."      "They poured petrol on a homeless guy - they set him alight."      "Why can't he go out and get a job?"      Behind every tatty sleeping bag   and cardboard box there is a human being   with a family, a history and a personality