The Sorrows Of Eliezer Mission

I am not liked by members of the PTA
Young children do not smile at me
I scream out of windows at 3 a.m.
Trying to encourage the hookers on the corner to keep their voices down
Out there where the drunks howl and the buses blast by
A violin plays from an open window across the street

In here it is only cold
And I can never sleep

I am not kind and generous to all comers
People sometimes scowl at me in disgust
When I scuffle by with my six-pack of beer under my arm
My tattered and well-stained pants falling off my hips
Shirt riding up over my belly like a curtain drawing over a hairy white mound
But I give readily to strangers and hoodlums and junkies and bums
Any change that’s rattling around in my pockets
Hey
I leave a good tip when I can
Ask any bartender or cabbie or pizza delivery guy

The nights around here are never my friends
I look out my window and wait
For the windshield wipers on the cars going by to stop wiping
So I can go outside and not get wet

I am not on any committees
I do not sit on any councils of anything
There are no foundations started in my honor
I do not make donations to all worthy causes
I try to do my part to make this place a little better
But mostly I just sit around and throw golf balls at my walls

I am not liked by my neighbors
They don’t wave and say hi to me in the hall
Sometimes one of them will knock loudly on my door
If I am being too loud late at night
I apologize and turn my radio down
But there is nowhere for me to run to anymore

I am not a bad person
But it is becoming increasingly difficult
To imagine myself as good