Danny And My Ponies

Danny laid back and surveyed the view A king on his bench, he was cold, he was blue I asked for permission to give him a note He nodded, not movin', just scratched at his throat Always smiled slightly, seemed so bemused Like he was the one, who was glad to be used I had a sense he was playin' a part But I had to help, for he tore at my heart He would walk, his feet wrapped in rags He wandered the neighborhood, carrying his bags The pride in his eyes would so clearly flash Like I was the one who needed the cash The tramps in our England, have always to walk From Philip to Doss House, a fifteen miles stalk The tramps in our country have no where's to hug Home hysterics give comfort, there's no time to talk Danny would lay, he'd never speak Here was a man who had attained his peak No fables to tell, and nothing held back This was a man who had led a strong path Old soldier, perhaps, or a worn, old jailbird Who'd never a hand clean and never a word For two hundred down, my project had fled Danny was gone, or may well have been dead He walked slowly, no hurryin' to death Took in turn his view, with his very last breath The river, the mist and the slightly grey sky Danny was waiting, patient to die The tramps in our England, have always to walk From Philip to Dorchester, fifteen miles strong The tramps in our country have no where's to hug Home hysterics give comfort, there's no time to talk Danny laid back, looked down and the plain The king on his bench with magnificent mane I asked his permission to give him a note He nodded, not movin', just scratched at his throat It's dangerous to faction as those who live rough Danny was a giant, solid and tough He allowed me to gift him and scribble this song Without me and my ponies, he lived just as long