He was born in a foreign country and soon he hit the road
Running from his misery and all the money that he owed.

Hiding in his shadows safe within his tears
Looking for the magic cap the hat for his fears

His dreams were silver and went on gold
His mind was young, his body was old

They squeezed his inspiration and he fell for his life
They took all his energy away from him that night.

And when the people are gone and so is he
He feeds from them as they feed from he

And when everybody is home in bed
He goes running with his head

A poet too crazed to sleep
Alone at last and he feels he must weep
He can't sleep
He can't sleep

So he picks up his guitar and curses his both hands
And he plays and he plays and he plays until the morning comes again

And he climbs to the