Craftsman's Ballad

It was not my own choice
But I'll take it as an art, it's an old tradition
I'm not lying on the streets, cold and weary
I'm using my own voice, in the tough competition

Now, they've filled all the corners
With their cats and the daughters
Where's the style, where's the talent?
Show them your problems, I know they don't care

You've gotta live the story, feel it
Have some pride in what you do
Blend into the crowd, they don't wait in the queue
To drop it in your shoe
They won't drop it in your shoe

I have the stories no-one can bring down
I've earned a few coins for a coffee
Drawing colored pencil works, all day long
What could go wrong?
Good stories are long gone

And what will you do?
When they'll be raiding the neighbourhood
Got my trench coat and my broken shoes
And the lousy tippers, they want to tear us down

So ask the dreadlock girl
Or the flannel-shirt boy
They're the ones with empathy, not soaked in vanity
They're a part of the family, and you'll be ok

You've gotta to live the story, feel it
Have some pride in what you do
Blend into the crowd, they don't wait in the queue
To drop it in your shoe
They won't drop it in your shoe