From four a.m. to the following night
He plays by the park under the street lamp's light
The traffic and pigeons all join in his song
And his audience passes not glancing too long
An empty can lies at his feet
But the music he plays holds a steadfast beat
His face is forgotten still lost by the moon
And the only thing captured is his carried tune
Ooo ohhh woah
La da da da da da da da da da da da da
He doesn't have family, he doesn't have friends
He sits at the bar when the street music ends
He tries to remember the people he's seen
He remembers a girl who was young and could dream
Ooo ohhh woah
La da da da da da da da da da da da da
One day at the park he sees her again
She's sitting down writing with ink and a pen
She glances up often, he returns her stare
And when she leaves he pretends she's still there
Ooo ohhh woah
La da da da da da da da da da da da da
Wishing he still had the girl's path ahead
He walks to the subway, his feet feel like lead
He waits by the train tracks and then the train's there
He thinks about the girl with the ink in her hair
Ooo ohhh woah
La da da da da da da da da da da da da
La da da
The next day the girl comes to listen and write
But she can't see him under the street lamps light
All she can hear is the traffic and birds
The empty can tells her the truth without words
Newspaper headline: Street Artist Dead
He was suicidal the article read
No mention of music, no one seemed to care
Except for the girl with the ink in her hair
Ooo ohhh woah
La da da da da da da da da da da da da
La da da
Ooo ohhh woah
La da da da da da da da da da da da da
La da da