Meet Andrew.  A change is gonna come.  The two of us sat and we sang.  He strummed a half tuned mandolin and without shoes we discussed the women we loved and lazily wondered how long the sunshine would last.  I would later that week see him again, walking through the Gorbals.  His lips were transparent, unable to see through his swollen eyes.  He asked me for water and I gave him 50p.  As he continued on I noticed he still wasn't wearing shoes.  

He carries under his tongue the inconvenient salty taste of a world where water is rationed out by pimps and whores that conceal their disease riddled privates with the tanned hides of the working class, while chimpanzees are allowed to roam the streets in a methamphetamine fueled search for the next hit.  It is a dangerous time.  Yet among the violent laughter and constant clanking of glass bottles, his voice can be heard.  He is singing a song that will only grow louder with time, and draw us closer to a beacon of light that will guide us through the filth and urine soaked cynicism.  Its been a long time coming.  A change is gonna come.