Lyrics:
Troubadour
He stopped me at the curb and asked if I spoke any French
When I asked what did he think it looked like through a teeth clench
He asked if we could move this to a bench
He’d come up from Africa looking for a paycheck
But nothing was coming until Friday for this trek
And as you can see I’m starting to look like a wreck
I have nothing to eat and you can see it on my neck
If you can take me into the phone store
You’ll’ve done one thing right helping a troubadour
At nine in the morning he opens up an Irish beer
He’s not afraid of rejection, an unkind word or jeer
He reaches into his pocket and hits a button
Out of his jacket comes out a sound that’s clear
The beat and the soul of the singer said reggae
I tried to follow along and wanted to stay
But by the blinking light I was swept away
I wanted to be able to sing like that and shake the core
But I’d never be on that level of a troubadour
He had a motorized device that he’d said made him fly
He’d hit the roundabout with such speed he would terrify
The cafe down the road had to put up with the public warnings
The repeats every hour made the whole village stupify
He walked up the mountain to see nothing on the pad
He knew even conservatives hate bankers and would help you put a want ad
Of course you have to be careful as to just how they’d word it
If you understand it properly you’ll see they’re ready for war
And would sweep the poor right into camps like the troubadour
He finds his spot somewhere in the corner of town
Somewhere people won’t wag their finger and wear a frown
The bridge haunts where the stars should be
He should have found a way to sleep facedown
When the ones that had had too much of the night came by
They were joking and lying about their accomplishments
And when the foot hit the puddle it was all accidents
Just like when the wealthy must crucify their accountants
His eyes went open wide like when he was on accelerants
When he was back to his resting place it was another encore
Such is the life on the discontented involuntary troubadour
He would hang around the front of the tobacco shop
For most the goods inside weren’t good enough to stop
Everyone that’d give him the right nudge would be followed
He’d waltz like he was going to rob the police station
I don’t live in a big mansion like the city cop
Who walks with his hands around his belt as if he’s the Lord
Bumping up to all the fanciest dinners no one else could ever afford
If you ever got a peek at the bill boy you’d be floored
He’d make ‘em throw parades on holidays as if he is adored
But when you arrest the town prophet that’s your reward
The mumbling of the peasant machinery class remains ignored
The boat’s been dismantled for parts and gets to stay ashore
Never having to take back home the rather lonesome troubadour
Troubadour
He stopped me at the curb and asked if I spoke any French
When I asked what did he think it looked like through a teeth clench
He asked if we could move this to a bench
He’d come up from Africa looking for a paycheck
But nothing was coming until Friday for this trek
And as you can see I’m starting to look like a wreck
I have nothing to eat and you can see it on my neck
If you can take me into the phone store
You’ll’ve done one thing right helping a troubadour
At nine in the morning he opens up an Irish beer
He’s not afraid of rejection, an unkind word or jeer
He reaches into his pocket and hits a button
Out of his jacket comes out a sound that’s clear
The beat and the soul of the singer said reggae
I tried to follow along and wanted to stay
But by the blinking light I was swept away
I wanted to be able to sing like that and shake the core
But I’d never be on that level of a troubadour
He had a motorized device that he’d said made him fly
He’d hit the roundabout with such speed he would terrify
The cafe down the road had to put up with the public warnings
The repeats every hour made the whole village stupify
He walked up the mountain to see nothing on the pad
He knew even conservatives hate bankers and would help you put a want ad
Of course you have to be careful as to just how they’d word it
If you understand it properly you’ll see they’re ready for war
And would sweep the poor right into camps like the troubadour
He finds his spot somewhere in the corner of town
Somewhere people won’t wag their finger and wear a frown
The bridge haunts where the stars should be
He should have found a way to sleep facedown
When the ones that had had too much of the night came by
They were joking and lying about their accomplishments
And when the foot hit the puddle it was all accidents
Just like when the wealthy must crucify their accountants
His eyes went open wide like when he was on accelerants
When he was back to his resting place it was another encore
Such is the life on the discontented involuntary troubadour
He would hang around the front of the tobacco shop
For most the goods inside weren’t good enough to stop
Everyone that’d give him the right nudge would be followed
He’d waltz like he was going to rob the police station
I don’t live in a big mansion like the city cop
Who walks with his hands around his belt as if he’s the Lord
Bumping up to all the fanciest dinners no one else could ever afford
If you ever got a peek at the bill boy you’d be floored
He’d make ‘em throw parades on holidays as if he is adored
But when you arrest the town prophet that’s your reward
The mumbling of the peasant machinery class remains ignored
The boat’s been dismantled for parts and gets to stay ashore
Never having to take back home the rather lonesome troubadour
Category
🎵
Music