Listen to the Truth

On my way home yesterday
Walking down the bleak, cold street
Listening to my headphones
And the steady thump of my feet

Grumbling about my crummy job
And homework I'd been assignned
How my unfair my parents are
I could see, but still was blind

Lusting after a new sleek car
And Jimmy from Algebra 2
Thinking solely of myself
How I was feeling blue

Until I heard that sweet harmonica
Trilling like a bird
On the street corner
Of Lexington and Third

A homeless man sat on a stoop
He did not play for change
Nor food or a crowd's attention
A concept very strange

He played, but no one heard him
They were stuck in their own strife
Rich of pocket, poor of heart
But this man knew true life

And so his tune plays on and on
Can you hear it, all day long?
He doesn't ask you for anything
But to stop, and hear his song