Troubadour

(Troubadour, troubadour, troubadour)
Oh troubadour
Did they ask you why
You traversed the street
Oh Troubadour
Did they even look at your face
Or ask your name

How did you respond
To the blankness of their eyes
How did you respond
Oh-oh troubadour
How did you respond
To their language of guns, knives
Knuckles and boots
How did you respond
Oh oh troubadour
Oh troubadour
Or did you still stubbornly
Hope the poetics of humanity
Will spread throughout the desert
Of their inhumanity
Brought by the years of cruel
White winter

They might have emptied
Your pockets
But at least they left
The poetry in you
They left the poetry in you