The boy was married to poverty
But he had his music
He had his sheet of fine white paper
That made him laugh, when it caressed his lips
He had his comb with thick and thin teeth
Steel or plastic, that was his luxury
He had two combs, he wasn't poor
He would play his comb
In his sadness he would weep
But the joy of his music, made him rich
No comments:
Post a Comment