In a palace made of cardboard

He sits and barters away

His life's possessions

Every cent is handed down

Passed away into the gnarled hands

So twisted from fishing in the gutter

For the change that buys his dinner

In a palace made of cardboard

He sings his songs of joy

Pours his soul into the city streets

A desperate glance is thrown around

To the apathetic moving statues

In cells of their own construction

Untouched by those about them

In a palace made of cardboard

He collects his only pay

For giving dignity away