Lyrics:

This is a song that I wrote when I was young,
And I call it The Broken Hearted Blues.

The air on that night was tempered like a knife,
And the people wore the face-masks of a clown.

Don, he was long, mis-shapen and forlorn,
And his woman ran away without a smile.

Days of the earth are unbroken changeless turf
But the faces of the men are something else.

Chasing wind as a boy was a spacious sexual toy,
But, baby, now he's a toothless baggy man.

When the hills of the sun make you feel that you are young,
Get good now, and face your face to the wind

This is a song that I wrote when I was young,
And I call it The Broken Hearted Blues.