His name was JimMore Like This
All were gathered 'round the fire when someone asked "Where's Jim?
It's cold as hell out here and could someone look for him?"
Ragged Sally volunteered and Uncle Buck did too.
Together they would look for Jim down Second avenue.
Up and down and round and round but Jim was nowhere seen.
For supper he was always game and late he'd never been.
The wind did howl, the snow did fall upon the icy street.
One more round they vowed before they would concede defeat.
Sally thought she'd heard a cry, or was it just the wind?
Buck thought best to head on back, next morning try again.
As they passed the little bridge 'bove Second avenue,
Buck saw something moving on the pavement down below.
There lay Jim in his crumpled vest, his eyes toward the sky.
They rushed to him but 'twas too late, they both began to cry.
He never mentioned family or gave out his last name.
To think he'd died without being loved was truly quite a shame.
The paper said a homeless man was found under a bridge.
The paper left hi