A Thousand Songs

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He had curly hair and a long slim nose,

Wore a hat with a logo and ordinary clothes.

Wore cowboy boots with pointy toes,

A t-shirt and glasses like two big zeros.

I've got a thousand songs inside my head,

And I'll sing every one before I am dead.

He used pretty words, his talk accented,

And everyone he spoke to felt complimented.

Said his folks were poor but always paid the rent,

He had a long name but said "Just call me Ken."

I've got a thousand songs inside my head,

And I'll sing every one before I am dead.

He plucked away at his Stella guitar,

Went town to town, never had a car.

Strings out of tune, hardly any gear,

But his voice stayed strong and his message was clear:

I've got a thousand songs inside my head,

And I'll sing every one before I am dead.

Said "My life was my own with a little compromise,

I told it as I saw it with these two old eyes.

One day I'll leave, maybe some will cry,

One thing they'll say, 'At least he tried'."  

I've got a thousand songs inside my head,

And I'll sing every one before I am dead.