You can say the soul is gone
And the feeling is just not there
Not like it was so long ago
On the empty page before you
You can fill in what you care
Try to make it new before you go
Take the simple case of the serge
Who can't go back to war
Because the hippies tore down
Everything that he was fighting for
Or the lovers on the blankets
That the city turned to whores
With memories of green kissed by the sun
You can say the soul is gone
And close another door
Just be sure that yours is not the one
And I'm singing for the stringman
Who lately lost his wife
There is no dearer friend of mine
That I know in this life
On his shoulder rests a violin
For his head where chaos reign
But his heart can't find a simple way
To live with all these things
All these things
All these things to pull
He's a stringman
A stringman