My Song

I never did get around to submitting my idea for the Songquest contest that CBC ran last year. I did finish the poem so I thought I should put it here to provide closure to this thing. Who knows, maybe Stompin' Tom Connors or Gord Downie will see this and write some music to accompany the words.

I was attempting to capture the sound I often hear in the early morning hours when the local bottle collectors come by my apartment building to search the trash bins looking for returnable bottles. There are quite a few of them who frequent my neighbourhood and they are all very different from each other.

Unsung Hero

Early in the day as the dawn breaks the night
He searches for a treasure that others rarely see
From a corner of the city, a place that’s real and gritty
All day long among the towers he will roam

In the morning he walks past, I hear the tinkle of the glass,
As the wheels of his old handcart click along
Try’n’ to make a livin’, from other people’s trash,
Unsung hero empty bottles are your song

Unsung hero or urban zero, your life is one we rarely see
Unsung hero or urban zero, what makes you do this every day?
Scratchin’ out a livin’ from other people’s trash
Unsung hero turnin’ bottles into cash

He defends his territory like a lion on the plain
While snarling at the others, his prize they try to claim.
From the bins, blue and green, wine or beer, rum or gin
Unsung hero, yes we know that it’s a sin

Unsung hero or urban zero, an Eco-warrior we seldom ever see
Unsung hero or urban zero, saving the world one bottle at a time
Scratchin’ out a livin’ from other people’s trash
Unsung hero turnin’ bottles into cash

cwkj