Nothing Can Be Taken From Us But Our Lives

You’ve got street corners and baseball teams
and mops and buckets to catch the rain
and handouts and apple cores and used coffee grounds scattered in the bottom of the garbage can
and ice and a few forks and electricity and water that is sometimes hot too
and diseases
and a job and people who care
and moths in the bathroom and spiders everywhere
and a television set that works most of the time
and strange habits and bad manners
and whiskey and sweet vermouth
and a few clean shirts and many empty beer bottles on the floor
and some pride but not much
and novels that nobody will ever read
and music to play all night long
and a voice to sing with
and a few bucks in the bank and don’t owe a man a penny
and you are one lucky bastard goddamn it