Singing and playing
In tune to the time
The song at hand
By ear; by rhyme.

He stood all day
It broke his back
He played and played
And showed no slack.
It was his life
His bread and water
The art that supported
his only daughter.

It was music
Not just another job
It was the sweat and grime
That reality could lob.

It robbed him of a life
It robbed him of time
He played sometimes and
Never received a dime
But still he played
The skies were now gray
But beyond the grayish hue
Lived a shade of blue.