The clatter of the garbage cans in the dark and lonely alley   Searching for a bottle with a drop or two of wine   The wino makes his rounds from garbage cans to gutter   Running like a wild man to every bottle that he finds   The wine makes him happy for a little while but this world of fantasy don't last long   Then his frail lonely body seeks refuge but he's lost in a world of his own   What would cause a man to give up everything life has to offer   And end up with no family no home no nothing   Sleeping on the ground in some fifty alley   Holding tight in his hand an empty wine bottle   In his eyes a look of sadness as though he's just seen the gates of hell   Could it be that he's loved and lost or could it be that he was lost and unloved   Whatever it might be it's a pitiful sight to see a man knows only as a wino