In the buzz of Seattle
He sits and plays,
Hour by hour
Day by day.
He sits on a bench
On the side of the street,
Making a beautiful noise
With his eyes on your feet.
His piano is his friend
And the only one he needs,
Because he can fell with his hands
But from his eyes he can't see.
This story is based off of a man I saw in Seattle, WA. I'm not sure if he could see or not, but his music was splendid.
~a.w.
