I used to walk south to twenty-third and eighth then make a left hand turn I walked all the way in ragged jeans and shoes that ain’t got no sole My mission was to reach a man who actually made me wish to learn To know the streets and read the faces as he did became my ultimate goal
He was filthy but with clothes not very old His name was J. Harrington the third More than a few of us sat transfixed on what we were told And marveled at every single word
He’d describe what he nor anyone knew for sure Is it darkness ever after or a table with Jesus as his newest guest Is their deity sitting around inventing a new disease for which there is no cure And all of us would praise Mr. Harrington at superiority’s request
He’d speak of the things he’s done that he can never take back He was old now but his conscience would ever stay young He spoke of life as if all we needed was a roof over a shack And let go of the dreams of fancy to which we all clung
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