He who lay down by the rich man's gate
And he begged for the crumbs from the rich man to eat
But they left him to die like a tramp on the street
He was some mother's darling, he was some mother's son
Once he was fair, once he was young
Some mother rocked him, little darling, to sleep
But they left him to die like a tramp on the street
If Jesus should come, knock at your door
Would you let him come in, take from your store
Would you turn him away, with nothing to eat
They left him to die like a tramp on the street
He was Mary's own darling, God's chosen son
Once he was fair, once he was young
And Mary, she rocked him, little darling to sleep
And she left him to die like a tramp on the street
[Other versions have a couple of different/additional verses:]
Jesus who died on Calvary's tree
Shed his life's blood for you and me
They pierced his side, his hands, and his feet
Then they left him to die like a tramp on the street
If Jesus should come and knock o your door
For a place to lie down or bread from your store
Would you welcome him in or turn him away
For God would reward you on the great Judgment Day