The Old Piano Man – Hour Four

Across the room, a relic stands
It has many a year
The tunes of generations’ bands
Heard by many an ear
Played by a man, up in his time
He’s seen and heard it all
Requests are grand, critiques are few
From open to last call

No one knows why he stays and plays
These songs that span the ages
And yet, he sits, days upon days
Without a workman’s wages
Is it merely the love of song
Or something deeper still
All we know is he’s going strong
And hope he always will

His dedication to the craft
Spans the years he has known
He’s signed many an autograph
As “Piano Man” alone
No one knows how he came to be
And still, it matters none
He plays each timeless memory
As if he were still young

Maybe this is why he does it
His own Fountain of Youth
Within the notes and lyrics
That speak a life of truth
I’m sure one day I’ll visit
And only hear the chords
Raining down on me from Heaven
As he plays before the Lord

For now, though, I’ll indulge him
Drink in each note that he plays
These moments are his legacy
To stay with me always
Music is as universal
As time is but a flash
And the gift the Old Man gives us
Is worth so much more than cash

His dedication and commitment
The yearning in his soul
Paints an everlasting portrait
Of a half that makes me whole
For music is the color
In a world of black and white
And the Old Man, like none other
Can still move my soul just right

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