As I walk these narrow streets where a million passing feet have tried before me With my guitar in my hand suddenly I realize nobody knows me Where yesterday the multitude screamed and cried my name out for a song The day the streets are empty and the crowds have all gone home I pass a million houses but there is no place where I belong All I knew to give it was song after song after song All the truth I try to tell you were as distant to you as the moon Born 200 years too late and 200 years too soon
I'm a child of this age locked inside the pages of your book And when I am but dust and clay and other children stop take look Well they marble at the miracles I did before them And to the heights I did inspired Or will they tear out the pages of the book to light a fire With the rain on my face there is no place where I belong Did you forget the folk singer so soon? And did you forget my song?