In the snow there stands a hurdy-gurdy man
With his frozen fingers plays as best he can
Barefoot on the ice he shuffles to and fro
And his empty plate it only fills with snow
And his empty plate it only fills with snow
No one wants to hear his hurdy-gurdy song
Hungry dogs are around him and before too long
He will fall asleep and then before too long
He'll just let it happen, happen come what
may Play his hurdy-gurdy till his dying day
Sing you of men
I've seen myself in you One day I will play the hurdy-gurdy tune