Full hands and empty hearts
The first stay first, so the last play their parts
But the poor are treasures in this world
Riches are worthless just like words with no progress

Bright headlights. Retreating crimson dim
I knew my place, but I see his face. Where do we fit in?
Next to the man who pleas with cardboard and pen?
I'll flick a coin to release my guilt
Cause I don't want to think of him again

Barefoot on barbed wire
Through this brick wall of selfish desire
But I've got hope for this dark world
I've got hope for this dark world

Every one of us has our hat in our hands
We're "catching breaks," we're catching change
We're beggars, some thieves
Some take, all receive
Contentment and hearts start to lift
When we see life is a gift