Just Look Away Scraping his bow The old violinist plays out of tune, Blues on his fingers. The people hurry by As he plays upon his corner, Sometimes throw a coin And if they see the pain in his eyes They just look away.
Old men in the park Spitting at the world Just count the hours Faded flowers Left up on the shelf, Trying to keep warm In an overcoat of memories, Soon be dead.
Scraping for fuel This crazy old world is quite out of tune, Too many trumpets The people hurry by All looking for a corner And if they meet a friend Who asks them to repay some old favour, They just look away.
Old men in the dark Sitting on the world Play cards with words, So absurd, The devil's harmony. Each man to himself In a well cut suit of selfishness, Just looks away.