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I saw an old man on the street today.

His shoulders were hunched and his hair was gray.

His jacket was nice but his tie was untied…

His useless left hand was limp at his side…

He limped along with a 3-footed cane.

I knew he'd had a bleed in his brain.

I tried to see the man he'd been

When his head was up and his waist was trim

His smile was straight and his back was, too

And all the girls were his to woo.

He liked to party, and to have his fun,

When the guys were together, the liquor would run.

They said he had “pressure” but he felt fine.

He didn't believe in those doctors' line…

They told him he had to take pills every day,

But the pills also took his manhood away.

After smoking a rock he felt clever and tall…

He didn't worry ‘bout nothing at all.

One day the headache wouldn't go away…

They couldn't make out what he wanted to say.

The ambulance came and doctor said

That a thing his brain had busted and bled.

If he'd'a watched his pressure, it might not have been

But he wanted it all, and that was his sin.