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THE FOLK SINGER
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As I walk these narrow streets
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Where a million passing feet have tried before me
With my guitar in my hand suddenly I realize
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Nobody knows me
A
Where yesterday the multitude screamed
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And cried my name out for a song
The day the streets are empty
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And the crowds have all gone home
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I pass a million houses but there is no place where I belong
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All I knew to give it was song after song after song
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All the truth I try to tell you were as distant to you as the moon
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Born 200 years too late and 200 years too soon
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I'm a child of this age locked inside the pages of your book
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And when I am but dust and clay and other children stop take look
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Well they marble at the miracles
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I did before them and to the heights I did inspired
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Or will they tear out the pages of the book to light a fire
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With the rain on my face there is no place where I belong
(NC)
Did you forget the folk singer so soon?
And did you forget my song?
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