Glen Campbell Folk Singer Lyrics

Folk Singer Lyrics

As I walk these narrow streets

Where a million passin' feet are before me

With my guitar in my hand

Suddenly I realize nobody knows me



Well, yesterday the motor toots screamed

And cried my name out for a song

Now the streets are empty

And the crowds they go on home



With the rain on my face

There's no place where I belong

And my whole life consists of a story

Of poem at a song



Now the truths I've tried to tell you

Are as distant as the moon

More than hundred years too late

Two hundred years too soon



I'm a child of the sage

Lord's been in the pages of a book

But when I'm dust and clay

Where other people stop and to look



And will they marvel and miracles

And perform into the high size to the spider

Oh, will they take the pages of the book to light of fire?



With the rain on my face

There's no place where I belong