the piano kid is happy

ok. more lyrics.
i was waiting for a bus near st. paul street as the winds caressed my hair. and there was a man with a sign. it said he has no home. no hope. just deep dispair. and i gave him a dollar, it was all i had, because he's got it much worse than me. and although i may be unhappy, at least life is kind to me. and the piano kid is singing back home because he's happier than me. i write my despair on my guitar; he writes love on his keys and sheds his light on me. and sheds his light on me. i remember one winter when i was in love with a girl i could not have. i recorded my thoughts in a diary i kept beneath my bed. just reading the words brings me back to those days and all my agony. i still feel her whisper, the warmth in her eyes, and the cold of january. and the piano kid was still singing back home because he only knows the joy of snowball fights, christmas trees, and getting brand new toys. and i wish that i was him. yeah i wish that i was him.