Broke Heart Singer

I was in a place that i could not name

I was on my own, lost upon my way

To a place i'd never seen before.

And the path was long and the moon hung low

When i heard a voice on the radio

The golden sigh of a broke heart singer.

Sometimes the pauper is the poet

Sometimes the fool is wise

Sometimes the joker seems to know it.

He was in a place that he tried to name

Just an orphan child in the pouring rain

With a heart so old it was made by angels

In his tower room writing holy songs

That were so beautiful the devil sang along

His spirit sored above the weeper

Sometimes the blossom breaks it's branches

Sometimes the angels cry

Sometimes your father is a phantom

I didn't know you before they hung you from your halo

But somehow i knew you couldn't last for long, save for song.

So if you're in a place that you cannot name

And you're all alone, lost upon your way

To a place you've never seen before

If your path seems long and the moon is low

You might hear the voice of some holy ghost

It's the golden sigh of the broke heart singer

Sometimes the silence is not golden.