You can say the soul is gone
  And the feeling is just not there
  Not like it was so long ago.
    On the empty page before you
  You can fill in what you care
  Try to make it new before you go.
    Take the simple case of the sarge
  Who can't go back to war
  'Cause the hippies
  tore down everything
  that he was fighting for.
    Or the lovers on the blankets
  That the city turned to whores
  With memories
  of green kissed by the sun.
    You can say the soul is gone
  And close another door
  Just be sure
  that yours is not the one.
    And I'm singing for the stringman
  Who lately lost his wife
  There is no dearer friend of mine
  That I know in this life.
    On his shoulder rests a violin
  For his head where chaos reigns
  But his heart
  can't find a simple way
  To live with all those things.
    All those things
  He's a stringman
  A stringman
  All those strings to pull