He plays sax on the corner,
Because he could never get into the studio.
He plays for nickels and dimes,
Because he never got that lucky break.
His Hail Mary’s never brought it,
And his hard work earned him nothing,
Because the world doesn’t give a damn
About determination.
But that poor old fool keeps playin’.
He keeps jazzin’ on the corner,
Because now he can’t give up.
What can you do when your best,
Just wasn’t good enough?
That poor old fool knew one thing,
He was out of options,
And his talent was from the thrift store.
He wasn’t good enough to be great,
He’d never make it to New Orleans,
Or to his mansion on the bayou.
But that poor old fool knew to keep playing,
Or else the truth would quench his rebellious soul.