(Walt Meskell, Tim Martin)

[Spoken]
I found her settin' on a Sioux City park bench, on a late November afternoon. Me, I was just driftin' through. She said she was fourteen, and runnin' away from home. And no, she wouldn't mind some company. So I sat down and smoked my last cigarette; she pulled out a candy bar. And we started talkin' about the hows and the whys, and we watched the first snow start to fall.

I said, "Hey, little girl. I know the rest of the world looks a lot better to you now. But you know, you gotta hold onto your home. 'Cause home is what's gonna keep you warm. So if you gotta run someplace, run on outta this here park, and back home. Now, I don't have no money to help get you there, but here: take my coat. I can't let you go cold."

[Sung]
I wish there was more that I could give you
Though I know it's your own life to live
But you're so alone
And far away from home
I wish there was more that I could give

[Spoken]
Standin' out at the edge a' town, leanin' on the Route 20 sign, snow blowin' all around, I thought about my home, and how far away it was. And then as night come on and the wind picked up, I started thinkin' about the cold, and the blizzard I might be spendin' the night with. And I realized I didn't have a coat anymore. I was alone. And somewhere, so was that little girl.

Well, along about midnight I was ready to say my prayers, 'cause the road was gone and I wasn't far behind. And then I saw some lights, whirlin' and flashin', and a patrolman helped me into a warm car. And there inside was my little runaway friend; and she wrapped my coat around me. Well, all I could say was "Thank you both, for savin' my life." But the patrolman looked me in the eye and said, "Thank you, for sendin' my little girl back home to me."

[Sung]
I wish there was more that I could give you
Though I know it's your own life to live
But you're so alone
And far away from home
I wish there was more that I could give