No car do i own, socks full of holes, day by day an hourly wage,

I lie there in bed worrying about tomorrow, a bed of my own.

No credit cards or a bank account, my only money in an aging wallet,

A table of food always, dinner as a poor boy will gladly serve.

Clothes on my back, shoes that take me to where i survive,

                    Blessings of many in a world of sorrow and strife.

            I’m just a poor boy with a smile and a tear, a wish and a fear,

          What i lack in gold is made up of treasure discovered everyday.

           I’ll take a trip somewhere from my mind, to a place of fantasy,

                      A rich man can’t find, where a poor boy can’t buy.

                  I’m just a poor boy with so much to give, i give to you,

                          I’m just a poor boy, what’s a poor boy to do.

                  Keith Garrett