The grocer's broom, back and forth Glides across the warn wooden floor He stirs the dust of the day Counts the change before closing the drawer Thirty years out the door Because the landlord wanted five hundred more Some stop by the store Just to see if he's doing OK It's a crime, it's a shame This old neighborhood won't be the same You could take a lazy cruise Over five thousand fathoms of blue To pass those idle days I suppose I've worked enough for one life anyway I've earned these idle eays He shuts the light, says goodnight Makes his way up the wide boulevard He stops to talk - farethewell, take good care It's a beautiful night High above, a million stars The city blocks seem like five million more Than a few hundred yards He climbs the stoop, finds the key And passes into the dark living-room He sees the old sunken chair Where silence sits playing her flute He finds the tune, he hums along She will teach him her five hundred songs And they'll pass ...