HE SANG SONGS OF DYLAN

Guitar by his side on this cold winter's night 
Singing songs of Dylan he sounded alright 
The songs were for the people who passed him by
Nothing in his hat today and he let out a huge sigh

He knew all the words and all the tunes too
By the busy shop doorway is when he came into view
His voice carried a distance from shop to shop
All the time he was hoping that people would stop

Time to call it a day and try to find a place to rest
The shop next door he thought would suit him best
His shoes had holes and his tummy was rumbling
He cursed he swore and he was prone to mumbling

This man will be singing in your town tomorrow morn
No doubt wishing that somehow he had never been born