They came in, with their new cars / Their caravans, their costly bikes
Their guitars all shining / With bridges made of tusk
Old models and new / All name plated in gold
Their straps without a dent / No stories have they told

And the melodies they played / Were pretty, fast and sleek
No chord was out of place / No string did miss a pick
Their private schooling showed / Through the starch-marks of their shirts
Their boots were clean as new / Not ever have seen dirt

The ladies were all versed / In the art of the mystique
No tooth has gone missing / 'beneath their lips of red lipstick
And although picking was not their game / They sure could read and rhyme
At least enough, so it seemed / For poetry of old times

But when he played, he set upright / His muddy boots ajar
His fingernails all dirty / From working on his car
His timeworn nylon strings / Were probably a century old
But no one took a breath / As the music stories told

"I was not but a child of six / Then living on a boat
When a neighbor gave me a gramophone / I might be musical, he thought
And so, from Bach harmony I learnt / From Mozart and Beethoven parts to sort
From Schubert the art of love / and from my dad a dozen different knots

We moved around a lot / School boys of many I fought
By the age of fifteen / I was nimble as a mountain goat
A vessel of the sea / I will build me, I thought
And so for the pound / The streets with music I hawked

And now, I'm here / Nor am I schooled or vessel gained
And unlike most of you / I have rambled a-many in the rain
But my back it is strong / My music it is real
My senses are alive / The turning of the seasons I still feel

You may think you're trained, polished, taught
But the art of living is not with money bought
But by doing the essentials, thinking bare thoughts
By picking apples from the ground, before they all rot

So stand up, go outside, into the cold
And pay no heed to fear or pain, your souls are almost done for and sold
So you may forget me now, or forever me scold
But live your life, be you young or old

And now I will leave you, I will depart
'Cause you, for me, there is no fresh start
The car still needs me, to repair
So-long friends, be well, do not despair"

So gazing sadly, they all got up
Picked up their instruments, cases now shut
And bowed farewell to the host, the owner of the hut
A meek and quiet creature, by the name of Bart