| [01:15.92] |
Here we all are born into a struggle |
| [01:18.30] |
To come so far but end up returning to dust |
| [04:58.19] |
Oxfam panache and tips his hat |
| [05:03.95] |
(laces undone) |
| [05:09.58] |
He has no truck with idle chat |
| [05:15.08] |
(work to be done) |
| [05:20.44] |
The songs he learned from scratched LPs |
| [05:25.70] |
Stops in mid-flow to sip his tea |
| [05:53.93] |
He strums the chords with less than grace |
| [05:59.56] |
(songs we all know) |
| [06:05.17] |
Each passing year etched on his face |
| [06:10.65] |
(sun, rain or snow) |
| [06:16.25] |
The words he sings are not his own |
| [06:21.66] |
They speak of things he'll never know |
