When I were out walking

When I were out walking but a few days ago
I met a man from the east side, a genius don't you know
he smiled through teeth of anguish, chess pieces on his brain
intense blackened eyes, like his king queen bishop insane.
When I were out walking on the pier of New York
I met a man selling shell fish, fresh from the east side of the coast
his head was all grizzled. gnarled with knowledge and age
he talked of wars and sacrifices, he was a seaman of sage.
When I were out walking on the coast of Delaware Bay
I smelt the essence of history upon a cockle shop day
passing octogenarian couples, white haired commitments delight
not forgetting the immigrants, recalling the fights.
When I were out walking, but a few days ago
a red lobster, face scaring the children as I go
the bottle of booze, wrapped in brown paper
this hobo a travelling, in the midst of the later.
I sat on the east coast, having made it by rail from the west
just a skinny old man dressed in slacks and a vest
seeking others just like me, a family I never did know
the calling of ancestry, that allowed me to delve oh so low.
When I were out walking I stumbled and fell
in the high tide of the east coast, no more time for this drunkard to dwell
I am here for a reason, to wash all the pain away
salt water of the east side, it is the end of my day.