I walk to work, it hardly takes any time
There's a prophet on the corner, I hand him a dime
He gives me roasted nuts wrappen in yesterday's new
With his mouth he smiles thanks, but his eyes read the blues
The prophet is blind but he can see anyway
If you ask him for his secrets, he'll give them away
For a dime and wrapped up in yesterday's news
With his eyes wide and grey, he'll sing you the blues
All of his life he's been playing the harp
It was stolen last week, now he hums while he talks
He takes no stock in newspaper news
Says he read it one time, it just gave him the blues
The prophet claims to be a whole lot younger than he is
4 ex wives, 11 kids
Hasn't seen them in a while, can't remember all their names
He'll tell you life highs and lows, but the blues never change

He grew old. Life passed him by because he never grabbed hold
We grow old. Life will pass us by unless we stop and grab hold

Roslyn lost her husband in the second world war
She was 22 then, now she's 84
She still counts sheep in the same bedroom
Where she broke all the windows the night she lost her groom
Some suitors came around but they were all turned away
It didn't take long until Roslyn was an old maid
She didn't seem to notice, she was too busy on the farm
She works her hands to the bone to this day on the farm

She grew old. Life passed her by because she never grabbed hold.
We grow old. Life will pass us by unless we stop and grab hold
We grow old. You can whine and cry all you like but you can't turn back time.