Folk Singer

Lyrics
> As I walk these narrow streets Where a million passin' feet Have trod before me With my guitar in my hand Suddenly I realize Nobody knows me Where yesterday the multitudes Screamed and cried my name out For a song Now the streets are empty And the crowds They've all gone home With the rain on my face There's no place where I belong And my whole life consists Of a story, of a poem, and a song Now the truths I've tried to tell you Are as distant as the moon Born a hundred years too late Two hundred years too soon I'm a child of the sage Lost in the pages of a book But when I'm dust and clay Will other people stop and take a look And will they marvel At the miracles I performed And to the heights I aspired Or will they tear the pages from the book To light a fire With the rain on my face There's no place where I belong <<
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Credits
- Writers
- Charlie Daniels