The clatter of the garbage cans in the dark and lonely alley Searching for a bottle with a drop or two of wine The wino makes his rounds from garbage cans to gutter Running like a wild man to every bottle that he finds The wine makes him happy for a little while but this world of fantasy don't last long Then his frail lonely body seeks refuge but he's lost in a world of his own What would cause a man to give up everything life has to offer And end up with no family no home no nothing Sleeping on the ground in some fifty alley Holding tight in his hand an empty wine bottle In his eyes a look of sadness as though he's just seen the gates of hell Could it be that he's loved and lost or could it be that he was lost and unloved Whatever it might be it's a pitiful sight to see a man knows only as a wino