all the children gather around him
when he plays the banjo
when he tells them stories of his life
they listen with both ears
they lay down on the grass
and they stare up at the mischief in his eyes
and when the show is over
they go back to their homes
but the banjo man plays one more tune
about a cowboy and a horse
returning home after the war
before heading back to his motel room
and the songs keep coming
like there's no end in sight
the songs keep coming
from the morning long into the night
he takes care of his instrument
he wipes the strings
and puts the banjo in its case
he turns on the TV
but he doesn't hear the noise
he eats an apple and he enjoys the taste
and when he goes to bed
he dreams about his childhood
like he does nearly every night
he worries about the future
he worries about money
but he knows it's going to be all right
and the songs keep coming
like there's no end in sight
the songs keep coming
from the morning long into the night
early the next morning
he'll go to get some coffee
then he walks back to his hotel room
it's off to another city
with other people's children
he hopes that he'll be returning soon
and the miles keep on rolling
through the mountains and the plains
and every one's imprinted in his soul
it's just another day
with more new music
it's something he cannot control
and the songs keep coming
like there's no end in sight
the songs keep coming
from the morning long into the night
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