WEBVTT

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He was out on the highway, and the moon
was his guide.

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We stopped for a coffee, when I gave him a
ride.

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I said, where are you going?

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He said, any place is fine, we'll all be
home someday.

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It's just a matter of time.

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I will always remember, how his face
showed the years.

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His hands, how they trembled, as he fought
back the tears.

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When he showed me a picture, of a lady
with a child.

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And he spoke, and he whispered,
and he began to smile.

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I was a poet,

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a master of rhyme.

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She was still young then, she was still in
her prime.

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We had a good life, there were songs to be
sung.

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She was a good wife, she gave me a son.

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He was a fine boy, we watched him grow.

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Then war shook our nation, and he had to
go.

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She died from a heartache, when he died in
vain.

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And I die a little more, every day.

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This picture holds a memory, this is all
that is mine.

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For I am a poet,

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a master of rhyme.

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I am a poet, a master of rhyme.