I feel the wash close down the street
Yet Chaplin walks feet nine fifteen
And I hear them call his name
And I see him turn away
They take him in and clean him up
They take him in and strip him down
Dry his skin and feed him wine
And I hear them call his name
And I see him turn away
Asks to use the phone
Yet he lives alone
There’s no one home to phone
Sits alone home alone calls his phone his own
His wife is still unknown
