He left behind the crowds

The critical acclaim

The writeups and reviews

He left behind his name

 

He brought his old guitar

His sweet and soulful voice

And he took to the road

To make another choice

 

Troubadour, Troubadour

Knowing somewhere there is so much more

 

He traveled cross the sea

He traveled cross the land

Just living by his wits

A guitar in his hands

 

He gave it all to faith

And rode a rhythm true

In the current of his songs

Where winds of chance blow through

 

The heart of a Troubadour, Troubadour

Knowing in his soul there’s so much more

 

(Bridge)  You can hear him in the subway station

                 Streets of Paris or the train to Rome

                Where he listens for a destination

                 Inspiration heard by him alone

 

                 He sings in poetry and allegory

                 Strumming on the steps of Amsterdam

                 Weaving chords into a gift of story

                 Grief and glory falling from his hands

                 His hands

 

And in the passing crowd

Where he stands to perform

A few may stop and hear

Something, somehow transform

 

For some it’s just a flash

A moment eye to eye

For some, a shining jewel

Revealed in passing by

 

The heart of a Troubadour, Troubadour

Knowing in his soul there’s so much more

 

The heart of a Troubadour, Troubadour

Finding in his journey so much more

Finding in his journey so much more