One of My Earliest Writings

I want to share this with a nephew of mine who qouted Woody Guthrie this morning on FB. I was feeling this way when I was 17...


THE SINGER
1975


I heard tale sayin there’s a young man playin at the bar tonight.
A quiet, lonely singer who has never been a winner... his guitar’s all right.
(But he wouldn’t sell his soul, and the crowd will never know...
and it’s sad that they don’t try to understand...)
I heard tale sayin there’s a young man playin: where’s the band?

Silent eyes beneath long strands of tattered hair.
And you and I don’t realize what’s hidden there...
how much they care, and how they long to be like you and me.

Fifteen years lonely and to think life’s only in a song?
Does the rhyme he’s playin seem to think he’s sayin he belongs?
Well I hear tell sayin there’s a young man playin at the bar tonight.
And you know, it’s kinda funny he ain’t playin for the money...
his guitar’s all right.

(If you don’t sell your soul, then the people want to know...
and it's sad because they’ll never understand...)
Well I hear tale sayin there’s a young man playin... where’s the band?