Folk Singer

As I walk these narrow streets where a
Million passing feet have throd before me
With my guitar in my hand suddenly
I realize nobody knows me
Where yesterday the multitudes
Screamed and cried my name out for a song
Today the streets are empty and the
Crowds have all gone home

I pass a million houses but there
Is no place where I belong
All I knew to give it was
Song after song after song
All the truth I try to tell you were
As distant to you as the moon
Born 200 years too late and
200 years too soon

I'm a child of this age locked
Inside the pages of your book
And when I am but dust and clay
And other children stop take look
Will they marvel at the
Miracles I did perform
And to the heights I did inspire
Or will they tear out the pages of
The book to light a fire?
With the rain on my face there
Is no place where I belong
Did you forget the folk singer so soon?
And did you forget my song?