Let me tell you of a story of a man I met, It’s a sad story But it’s a story of love and friendship And don’t be confused About the tone This story has happy ending but to get there We must sing the blues I met a man in old San Juan How I found him, you could only guess His heart broken and his clothes were torn but the song he sang was blissful and true I never heard such a melody It echoed through the streets you see It was a hypnotic sound of peace and joy With a touch of gentle misery I ask him to tell his story But he said it was too sad So ask if he could play me the melody That could make the heavens so sad He took deep breath and looked at me What came out I cannot express The sound was beautiful you must understand But I cannot repeat in such happiness The story started with his wife and child And man who would soon change his life Promising fame of fortune, With his name up in lights This man was an artist you see A smooth talker and all that can be A voice of an angel singing to thee With a tongue made of silver speaking in three’s They traveled side by side you see The man leaving his wife and child With promise of returning and Bringing new life If only life was so simple you see This would be happy tale for you and me But as told you before it’s a sad story With happy ending you’ll soon see The artist gave the man a bag Within it, a spoon, and needle and a match He said the price of fortune and fame is close It lies within his grasp The artist said Take it and you will see A world of glory And all you can be the man took everything you see and soon it would only be he The artist left the man Taking with him the family man once had Now this story is getting too sad And I promised an ending That would make you glad So I will tell you about his friend The man had a friend you see She was strong but worn Yet her sound was so sweet Singing the man’s unhappiness with her joy in-between A true friend of brass and pearl She allowed the man to touch her If only she could sing his story The sound of pure glory Years have come past And the man still has his friend in hand Playing their gentle melody That can make anyone so sad This is when I met the man Standing on a step playing with his friend Telling the story of how he met His a girl made of brass that he called his friend
Posted on: Tue, 23 Jul 2013 20:52:21 +0000