Hart's Island - Tom Jans

    As an orphan in the city, he could use a helping hand
    But Gino never had no family,
    No one there to love him or help him understand
    And fighting was the world he longed to see

    The streets of New York City, became his only friends
    Fit him like a glove on a fighter's hand
    But dreaming was for free, so he would just pretend
    That he had never heard of Hart's Island

    Everyone had told him about that lonely place
    The winds that blow so cold across the land
    The only thing that's worse than dying in disgrace
    Is being buried there on Hart's Island

    That's where you go if you're someone no one knows
    Just a plastic rose, on Hart's Island
    No one comes around and no names can be found
    The homeless underground, Hart's Island

    The years had left their scars on the body of that man
    Nothing like the pain inside his mind
    He fought in every city, from town to town he ran
    Searching for the home he longed to find

    He returned to New York City, in the twilight of his years
    The ring had left him nothing but the past
    Drinking eased his sorrow, and helped to calm his fears
    Knowing that the comfort would not last

    In a lonely little room just before he died
    Gino had reached out to hold a hand
    For the family he prayed for and all the nights he cried
    Gino found his home on Hart's Island


    Marco Giunco
    Work Basket Music Words