Give me a word
And I'll sing you a song
On street corners I'll play for you.
If you toss me a dime (if you help me along)
I'll try to make life easy, too.
Some say I'm lazy, or weak.
But brother, I just turn the other cheek.
I'm doin' what I was born to do.
I got nothin' but this shirt on my back
I wander through the days
Singin' glorias to the sunset's haze
I am a minstrel.
Don't have money
I barely stay alive
My only agents are kids on the street.
But it don't get me down (they don't see me frown)
'Cause they give me material I seek.
So my thumb gets me from town to town
Their stories and faces get me by.
So I can stand on my corner and sing.
Don't you know
That we are like gardeners
We live on the dreams we plant.
We stroll our rounds (spreading our seeds)
And reap a harvest when we come back.
I'm like a Johnny Appleseed planting dreams;
I offer a form of Eternity.
And I stand on the stage and sing.