Lyrics

The sun came up in a peculiar way
I rubbed my eyes, fought off the haze
Of another inebriated couple of days
Monotony is killing me, shrug off the remains

Of the weekly 40 hours, but it pays the bills
So I throw on a suit and overcoat to keep out the chill
Of another long December, find a seat in the car
My subway stop is close but always seems so far

The doors open up at 42nd Street
A man of nearly 60 drops his case next to me
Says he?s been living on the streets, got no regrets
Living by the strings is just as good as it gets

?So why you look so down, man?? He questions me
?Got a suit, got a house, got a family?
I say ?Life?s getting dull, need some room to breathe
How can you fight the norm??
He says:

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??I?m a traveling troubadour you see
And life don?t get the best of me
I got everything I?ll ever need
My guitar, my pen, and my melody?

Next stop coming and our paths divide
He turns around and takes his lonely case for a ride
From club to club and note to note he takes his stand
The rhythm of his life from the slight of his hand

In the streets glow, reaches out to a place
He once called home, where his past it awaits
But he knows better
Than to retrace his steps in the sand

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What if you were walking
In the shadows of misery?
Would you hit the ground running
Embrace the things that set you free?

Keep it in mind, when you refuse the time
Avoid your true calling, pretend it?s a crime
There?s a man on the street with no shoes on his feet
Living his favorite songs

CHORUS