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