A Cold Pittsburg Morning

The city streets were jammed, every bar in town was crammed 
On a cold Pittsburg morning
Glory at its most extreme, hysteria for a footbal team 
A-raving

Down the street a ways, hid behind the plaster walls 
Of on old beat-up apartment
Sophia Eizer lived alone, no neighbour friends or telephone 
To aid her

Born seventy years ago, she has felt the cold and seen the snow 
A-blowing through the tree tops
But Sophia was much younger then, the sweetness of her mandolines 
A-twanging

Now in this day and time it's almost come to be a crime 
To be old in this here country
Feeding on descrepit health to fatten up the purse of wealth 
God knows it

Sophia shut the windows tight to face the horrid winter's night 
With no more warmth to greet her
Five months since she paid her bill, a gentle voice beyond the hill 
Is calling

Sleeping in a bed of rags, old cut-up rugs and paperbacks
The sun's a-slowly rising
Beneath a cloud of frozen breath, Sophia Eizer froze to death 
This morning

The city streets are bare, the smoke stinks in the air 
On a cold Pittsburg morning
While blowing off the steam, they'll rave about their team 
Again tomorrow