In a small cafe
|
On a crowded night
|
In a spot of light
|
Stands the singer,
|
And the band begins
|
And the beat is strong
|
And the room belongs
|
To the singer,
|
All the people turn to hear
|
The sad refrain
|
And catch the cry of pain
|
That's in his song
|
But in his haunted face
|
And in his searching eyes
|
There's sign that something's wrong
|
Now the eager crowd
|
Hangs on every word
|
But the sounds are slurred by the singer
|
Till the people feel every aching part
|
Of the broke heart of the singer
|
Still the song goes on
|
About a love e knew
|
That seemed so sure and true
|
But turned out wrong
|
And from the tears he shows
|
Nobody really knows
|
Is he the singer or the song?
|
Is he the singer or the song?
|
|
As the sad song ends
|
He hits the final note
|
It catches in his throat
|
But comes out strong
|
And as he bows and goes
|
Nobody really knows
|
Was he the singer or the song?
|
Was he the singer or the song?
|
|
-----------------
|
THE SINGER
|
Barbra Streisand |