Lily Palmer

She doesn't ask much of life poor Lily Palmer Just a small cabin by the Gippsland sea Where she might sleep and from the weather shelter 'Your dreams are small when you're in poverty'. Her life's belongings in a shopping trolley She push it up through Bourke Street Mall each day A tattered figure amongst the wealthy shoppers She show her years in wrinkles and in gray. Some look at her with looks of human pity Whilst some with looks of scorn ask who is she? But she has learnt to cope with disapproval Nor does she welcome looks of sympathy. The Salvation Army give her food and clothing Without their help by now she may be dead And she sleep on hard bench at Spencer Street Station I do not envy Lily her cold bed. She's sixty six too old for the rough lifestyle And far too old for sleeping in the damp and cold Life's never easy for the poor and needy And so much harder for the poor and old. It has been said she has a son and daughter And that she has not laid eyes on them for years She raised them on her own when times were better But for her past she doesn't shed any tears. Faces of wealth and affluence all around me And amongst them the face of poverty I see Through Bourke street Mall poor Lily slowly shuffles Indifferent to both scorn and sympathy. Still she has her dream and her dream seem quite modest A small cabin in Gippsland somewhere by the sea Where she might sleep and shelter from the weather Your dreams are small when you're in poverty.