You can say the soul is gone
And the feeling is just not there

Not like it was so long ago.

On the empty page before you

You can fill in what you care

Try to make it new before you go.

Take the simple case of the sarge

Who can't go back to war

'Cause the hippies
tore down everything

that he was fighting for.

Or the lovers on the blankets

That the city turned to whores

With memories
of green kissed by the sun.

You can say the soul is gone

And close another door

Just be sure
that yours is not the one.

And I'm singing for the stringman

Who lately lost his wife

There is no dearer friend of mine
That I know in this life.

On his shoulder rests a violin
For his head where chaos reigns

But his heart
can't find a simple way
To live with all those things.

All those things

He's a stringman

A stringman

All those strings to pull