dianne anderson


He sits there in his silent world unable to hear a sound
It seems as if his eyes are fixed firmly on the ground
Nobody tries to talk to him to make him understand
Yet long ago when he was young he used to play in a band
Yes he was great, and music was his talent and his life
On stage playing songs that a man might sing to his wife
Until fate and passing years robbed him of his hearing
Now he often has to suffer unkind people's jeering
He may have lost the sounds but his eyes see what we

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