Just Look Away - P.F.M.

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