Cutting the Strings

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I used to be a rich man,
but all that's past and gone.
I had a heart of gold, coins of silver,
And a cloak to keep me warm.
I lay my head pon silken pillows,
Dreaming till the dawn

One day I passed a lonely man,
Shivering in the cold with trembling hands.
And so I gave my cloak to him,
And traveled wearily on.
And lay my head upon my pillow,
Dreaming till the dawn.

Awake at dawn I traveled on,
And met a child who hungered long.
And so I gave my coins to him,
And traveled wearily on.
And lay my head upon my pillow,
sleeping till the dawn.

And so it came one day,
A shining lady came my way,
Whose sparkled eyes and graceful smile looked my way
So my heart of gold I gladly gave,
And she took it with her at the dawn,
And traveled on along.

As I wearily traveled on,
With nothing left my own.
Empty now, I travel on,
With naught but words or empty song,
I wearily travel on,
And rest my head on concrete,
Waiting for the dawn.
Till I awake and give my words,
Till nothing left will come.