Flower Lady

Millionaires and paupers walk the hungry streets Rich and poor companions of the restless beat Strangers in a foreign land Strike a match with trembling hand Learn too much to ever understand But nobody's buying flowers from the flower lady Lover's quarrel, snarl away their happiness Kissed crumble in a web of lonliness It's written by the poison pen Voices break before they bend The door is slammed It's over, once again But nobody's buying flowers from the flower lady Poets agonize, they cannot find the words And the stone stares at the sculptor asks "are you absurd?" The painter paints his brushes back Through the canvas runs a crack Portrait of the pain never answers back But nobody's buying flowers from the flower lady Soldiers, disillusioned, come home from the war Sarcastic students tell them not to fight no more And they argue through the night Black is black and white is white Walk away both knowing they are right But nobody's buying flowers from the flower lady Smoke dreams of escaping souls are drifting by Dull the pain of living as they slowly die Smiles change into a sneer Washed away by whiskey tears In the quicksand of their mind they disappear Still nobody's buying flowers from the flower lady Feeble, aged, people almost to their knees Complain about the present using memories Never found their pot of gold Wrinkled hands pound weary holes Each line screams out you're old, you're old, you're old But nobody's buying flowers from the flower lady And the flower lady hobbles home without a sale Tattered shreds of petals leave a fading trail Not a pause to hold a rose Even she no longer knows The lamp goes out the evening now is closed And nobody's buying flowers from the flower lady