Way past midnight down the road he eloquently staggered

 with eyes half closed, a quarter-smile on a face dementedly haggard.

I asked him where he's going, he answered me "Fuck knows.

Depends on which direction that the cold wind blows."

Fading in the streetlight as he wandered on his way,

I wondered if in daylight he might have more words to say.

People come and people go- that's the way of the world, y'know.