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.