so the rag man and the bag man
stopped to breathe the air
and bag man said to the rag man
ya know life ain’t never fair

but the rag man only chuckled
when the bag man spoke
then the rag man whispered
friend have you gotta smoke

patiently he stood waiting
for his friends reply
no answer was forthcoming
you see the bag man was quite sly

his stogies were priceless
his flame it was propane
when threatened he muttered
it was his street life game

the rag man was persistent
his patience was all spent
please let me make some ashes
it’s wednesday the start of lent

now the bag man had religion
but he couldn’t find a god
his heaven’s in the needle
his prayer’s in the nod

after scratching and fumbling
he dug deep inside his coat
producing a small pack of stogies
with their surgeon general’s note

and the rag man grabbed one
sharing the eternal flame
thanked the bag man profusely
though he didn’t know his name

he talked of apple annie
and the state she had him in
he cared about where she was going
she worried about where she had been

by the color of my complexion
and the sad paler of my eye
she thinks i’m really sick
like maybe it’s my time to die

but if what i feel is sickness
i don’t ever want to be well
those doctors and their nurses
tell them all to go to hell

don’t i get up every morning
and wander through the day
feed my friends the pigeons
and watch the children play

the rag man jumped up moaning
what does apple annie know
she’s a child on the streets
that don’t know where to go

she’s hooked up with stuff
and all those worldly things
she can’t see her fingers
she only sees the rings

rag man she ain’t no different
it’s all the things in her head
she piss away lifes passion
in some other loser’s bed

but bag man it hurts me
i been down that road before
when you finally stop your knocking
no one answers the door

you go to her park daily
just to see her face
and even though she wants you
her stuff’s in another place

she just keeps smiling and hiding
trapped by secrets inside
those squirrels that surround her
they feed her self serving lies

and they hide their nuts from her
she knows hunger’s pain
but rag man she won’t join you
she lives her life in rain

apple annie’s looking
with eyes blind to truth
and stuff’s a whole lot slicker
despite his lack of cooth

but bag man there must be an answer
a way to touch her now
eighteen men are trying
it’s nothing she’ll allow

so go on home now rag man
find your favorite grate
a little wine and sleep will help
you’ll never get the date

and be thankful for the invite
who knows of her intent
like you said it’s wednesday
we just started lent

that’s all very true bag man
it’s a terrible price she’s paid
with stuff she has nothing
with me she had it made

if you happen to see her
give her my best smile
let her know i’m not really sick
just seems that way once in a while

and i know the source of questions
and futility of her search
my lifestyles my religion
i never needed church

and when she reads the papers
about the war that’s lost
it wasn’t just a smiling face
but a friend she tossed

and let her know there’s hope
beyond her worldly things
just listen to the siren
and the song she sings.