Singing For My Supper Poem by Tom Foster
Singing For My Supper
Hey
Wadd'ya think the possibilities are
That you could see your way clear
To consider the chance and maybe
Be kind enough to understand
Then I could you could
I mean
I got money comin’ this week
From my mother
Government
Church
Old Aunt what’s her name
And all I need’s a little bread
Baloney
Cheese
Juice
Some fruit and veggies
Dog food and
Oh yea
How much are those
Foreign beers
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11/3/2025 7:43:30 PM # 1.0.0
