There is a tear, old man
on your face and your hands are shaking
is it fear, old man
or just a trace of hatred awakening?
You've a story to tell
and you tell it so well
but the story is not in the lines on a page,
the story is in the lines on your face
This is the world, old man
for which your worked and loved with passion
a cultured pearl, old man
that your heart and hands helped to fashion
They want to change your way of life
a life you thought was right
all you've held dear since birth, they'll rearrange
but I don't think you're going to live to see the change