Another Man’s Gold

What if my rusty bike is your favorite ride,
Or my holey sweater keeps you warm inside,
What if my ripped shoes keep your feet safe,
Or my scraps from breakfast is a meal you crave.

What if my broken dolls are your favorite toys,
Or my old records are your favorite noise,
No matter what it seems, I’ve always been told
One man’s trash is another man’s gold.