Folk Singer Lyrics

Intro Bb D# Bb D#
As I walk these narrow streets
where a million passin' feet have trod before me
With my guitar in my hand
suddenly I realize nobody knows me
Where yesterday the multitudes screamed
and cried my name out for a song
Now the streets are empty
and the crowds they've all gone on home
With the rain on my face
there's no place where I belong
And my whole life consists
of a story a poem and a song
Now the truths I've tried to tell you
are as distant as the moon
Born a hundred years too late
two hundred years too soon
I'm a child of the sage
Lost in the pages of a book
But when I'm dust and clay
will other people stop to take a look
And will they marvel at the miracles I performed
And to the heighths I aspired
Or will they tear the pages from the book
to light a fire
With the rain on my face
there's no place where I belong