Room for the Poor

one cold autumn morning
 leaves had tunred brown
 an old bum come trampin
 through a small western town
 he walked thru the church yard
 to the preacher's back door
 where he knew there was refuge and room for the poor
 he knocked and then waitind for the precher to come
 with just a kind word for a broken down bum
 the preacher arrived
 and looked out in dismay
 with a few angry words he drove him away
 ofyou won't offer me something to eat
 may i sit here a moment and rest my poor feet
 i've travelled so far
 i'm weary and sore
 and stay up in heaven is there room for the poor
 is there room for the poor
 across the divide
 where bums don't go hungry
 and freeze up outside
 or will they be driven from the saviour's back door
 oh say up in heaven is there room for the poor?